


The Definition of Trouble

by evilqueenofgallifrey (MayFairy)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Asexual Character, Demisexuality, Gen, differing morality between parents means we can't always have nice things, has a bit of them parenting the kid too at a few points, interpret the Twelve and Clara relationship how you like, it was meant to be a humour fic but keeping it in character meant angst as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 77,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayFairy/pseuds/evilqueenofgallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things just probably shouldn't happen. A child of the Doctor and the Master is one of them. </p><p>After only raising her for a few years when she was a toddler (with Clara's help), the Doctor is horrified when every glimpse of his daughter he gets, the more like her mother she is, and the more complicated things get. As unconditional as his love might be, having to stop her and Missy taking over the universe isn't his first choice of family activity, even if it's one he should have perhaps expected. </p><p>Twissy as hilarious but also angsty opposing co-parents, with a bemused/disgruntled Clara in the mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> I did a "ship kids" prompt on tumblr, and made one for Twissy when asked. Then she became fully fledged in my mind and I have too much I want to do with her to not give her a story of her own.

The Doctor knew a lot of things. He knew simple things like math and geography and more complicated things like the rules of time and how Clara's eyes malfunctioned when she got surprised or upset.

He also knew impossible things. Like the fact that the person in the universe who had the tightest grip on his hearts was a psychopath who had tormented him for centuries but also once been his best friend. And as unpleasant as the reality of that was, he had actually managed to more or less come to terms with it. He'd certainly had centuries to do so.

But what he currently knew was that letting her in the TARDIS had been _a bad idea_ and letting her kiss him again had been _an extremely bad idea_. How was he supposed to have known that this time he was going to be hit with the urge to kiss her back?

Actually, when it came down to it, everything to do with the Master, or Missy, or the Mistress, or whatever the hell she wanted to call herself, was a _grade A terrible idea_ and he would deserve the "I told you so" and/or "what the hell are you doing" Clara would give him if she knew that he was currently snogging his oldest enemy.

Missy's hands travelled down the front of his jacket and ripped the buttons from the seams in her haste to rid him of the article of clothing. By the time he realised what she was doing, he wasn't so sure he wanted to stop her. Generally he couldn't be less interested in this sort of thing, and before she'd turned up again he'd been certain that this body was asexual. Now it was becoming obvious that he'd been wrong - just _extremely_ demisexual it was, then (and just asdemiromantic). 

 _To hell with it_ , he thought briefly, and he grabbed her face to kiss her fiercely with all the passion and anger and need that felt so foreign in his veins but couldn't be ignored.

She giggled happily at his enthusiasm and when her nails dug into his skin through his shirt he couldn't even find the will to complain. As always, he was putty in her hands and a sufferer of the most toxic kind of love, and he actually really didn't want to stop her removing his clothes and her own.

Well, she was the one who had helped him realise that he was an idiot at the core. This just supported the theory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll see Twelve get...well, probably the biggest shock of his life in the form of something very small, if you take my meaning. :D


	2. Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor gets a bit of a shock, and finds he suddenly has to make room in his hearts for a tiny new person in his life.

The Doctor watched Clara leave the TARDIS and smiled quietly to himself. It was a relief to have her back with him after the incident with the dream-crabs. He had missed her terribly, though would never quite be able to voice to her just how much, because it wasn't his way.

Thankfully, it seemed he didn't need to. She understood.

Before he could stop and think about where he wanted to go next (or whether he wanted to skip ahead to when Clara had said she would next see him), the TARDIS jolted and took off completely without his permission.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked the ship, rather outraged. "Where are we going?"

He had no choice but to hang onto the console and hope for the best. When the box finally landed, he stormed to the doors and threw them open. And in retrospect, he probably should have guessed that the person waiting outside them would be Missy.

She was facing away from him, mostly, but glanced over her shoulder at him and beamed.

"There he is," she said, and he took note of the huddle of courtiers in the corner of the room who were eyeing her and the box warily, "I'll be off now boys, you can have your little moon back. It's been fun."

"What have you been-" The Doctor's question completely dried up in his mouth when Missy turned around and he saw the swaddled baby in her arms. While he just stared, she nonchalantly walked past him into the police box. He forced himself to retreat inside and shut the doors. "What have you  _done_?" he demanded. "Whose child is that? You can't just take children, even for you this is a whole new low, what do you want a baby for anyway?"

Missy just laughed and rearranged the blanket around the baby's face with a gentleness that confused the Doctor further. "Oh, my little dear, he's quite slow sometimes, isn't he?"

He just stared, waiting, and clueless as to what she was on about.

"Look at her, Doctor," she said, approaching him so that he could get a good look at the baby, "You must be able to feel it, young as she is."

Just as a fraction of his brain actually considered what she was implying, the baby's eyes opened to reveal a very familiar pale blue - one the Doctor and Missy shared. Alarm flooded his every thought and he felt his eyes widen to a Clara-esque size.

"No," he said flatly. "No. That's not possible." Missy arched an eyebrow at him, and her smirk only served to make him annoyed in addition to completely blindsided. "We can't have - it's not-"

"I know it's hardly the norm for our sort, but it  _is_ possible, Doctor, as you know perfectly well."

"It was  _one time_!" When she shot him a sceptical look, he weakly amended, "Well, alright, three times, but that's a  _pinprick_ of probability! Time Lords don't just happen on a whim!"

"We've always been the ones to beat the odds," Missy murmured, almost more to the baby than to him, "Now, do you want to hold her or are you going to keep flapping about?"

He stilled, thought about it, and frowned at the same time that he held his arms out for her to hand the baby over. Although he was briefly afraid that his current body's disdain for physical touch might hinder his prowess at holding the child, the moment she was handed to him, his arms automatically brought her into a secure but gentle hold in the crook of his arm.

At the same time, a jolt went through him. A realisation of pure truth. That this baby blinking up at him had his eyes, and was undoubtedly his because he could sense her very mind, and how it was a part of his. Warmth began to dilute the paralysing shock in his system.

"Hey," he said to the baby, offering her a finger which she grabbed with her tiny fist. His lips twitched in a tiny smile.  _I have a daughter_ , he thought dazedly. Not that it was a first time occurrence, but it didn't have to be. The tiny being in his arms - who couldn't be more than a month old by the looks of it - was his only living blood relative.

And her mother was the Master. (The Mistress. Whatever.)

If he hadn't been so intent on holding his daughter, that thought alone might have given him an aneurysm.

"I-" Unexpected emotion choked his voice as he looked up at Missy, who was smiling at him. "She's really ours, isn't she?" When she nodded, he muttered, "Rassilon. Why only tell me now?"

"I didn't need your help, if that's what you're thinking," she said, narrowing her eyes at him, "I took over a good dozen worlds while that-" She pointed at the baby, "Was happening. I just thought you might want to meet her, given that you did assist in her creation."

He felt his cheeks flush, and she smirked.

"Does she have a name?" he asked, wondering why it hadn't occurred to him sooner. Missy then spoke in Gallifreyan, a birth name worthy of a descendant of the Houses of Oakdown and Lungbarrow. He nodded in approval.

"I figure if you want to give her another name of some sorts, it's only fair since I picked the important one," Missy said, shrugging, "A nickname or an Earth name, it's not as if I care, but try not to make it too stupid, I do need to be able to say it without wanting to cut my own tongue out."

The chance to give the Master's daughter an Earth name, given how much she had shown abhorrence for the planet over the years, was too good to pass up. He examined his daughter, memorising her chubby cheeks and perfect lips and nose and the eyes that were both his and Missy's.

He thought about names, names he liked, and of course those belonging to his companions circled around the most. It would probably be strange to name her after one of his friends, though, except that there was one that had started lingering. A name his Eighth self had loved saying, had said in joy and heartbreak and wonder.  _Charlotte Elspeth Pollard. Charley, to my friends._ A jolly, brave, Edwardian adventuress, who had been so very dear to him. Yes, that was, for some reason he may never be sure of, perfect. 

"Charlie. Short for Charlotte," he told Missy finally, and then brought his attention back to their daughter and spoke more softly, "Wee Charlie."

Missy sniffed and wrinkled her nose. "It's not awful, I suppose. Better than Clara, or Martha-"

"Oi," he warned, but he didn't quite have it in him to be properly angry. As terrifying as it was to so suddenly have this new and tiny person in his life, he could already feel that his hearts had swollen to accommodate the love he already had for the baby in his arms.

"So I was thinking I might move in for a bit," Missy said casually, and such a sentence should have panicked him, but since it was a way of being sure she wasn't about to snatch Charlie from his arms and take her away for stars knew how long, he didn't protest.

"Okay," he murmured, his gaze still unable to leave Charlie's face, "Just try not to blow anything up."

"No promises." Missy came to stand by him, and swooped down to drop a kiss on her daughter's head. "I knew you'd love her. Just like I did. She's half me, how couldn't you?"

He ignored that rather pointedly and instead realised he was not quite prepared for the bundle of joy and trouble he had just been handed, literally and figuratively. "We're going to need baby things. I'm not sure I've got any."

Missy's eyes lit up. "We could go shopping. Your little pet could help carry things, like a little pack horse-"

 _Clara_. That thought stopped him dead. How the hell was he supposed to explain this to her? It would mean admitting to certain...activities for one, but he had no idea how she might react to him suddenly being a father (again). Or Missy's new state of residence in the TARDIS.

"No," he snapped, "Clara isn't finding out about this just yet. I need time to process this."

"But we need things for the baby-"

"So go and find some!" he told her hotly. "I've got my old crib somewhere, you just fly us somewhere and get the essentials."

"No, we're doing this as a team," Missy insisted, "And we've got all the universe to find exactly what we need."

* * *

 

After traipsing through intergalactic markets for the best in baby food, 51st century shops for nappies and a pram that had foldaway legs and a hover function, all that was left was the clothes, and they had - after much arguing - decided on the 21st century for that.

The Doctor insisted that Missy change out of her Victorian dress so as to not raise any more attention than a couple with their physical ages and a baby might already. So he now had to make sure that he wasn't distracted by the fitting trousers she had selected instead, or the fact that she was wearing her hair down so that it brushed across the top of her blouse covered shoulders.

With that sorted and the Doctor keeping a protective hold on Charlie, they left the TARDIS and went into a large store that boasted the best range of infant clothing and supplies in all of London (it seemed unlikely but it surely meant it would suffice). Missy hurried to the nearest shelf to inspect what was there, while the Doctor just glanced around the shop and wondered if this was all some drug induced dream.

A glance down at Charlie shook him from that strand of worry, because he knew he could never imagine something such as her, but he still felt ridiculously out of place in a store that was almost nauseatingly human. Then again, this had been his idea.

"Hey, can I help at all?"

As he turned, he briefly registered that the voice was vaguely familiar, but he did not expect to be faced with none other than  _Rani Chandra_ of all the damned people. He blinked, gulped, and again held fast to the decision that he didn't want any of the humans he knew knowing about all this yet. Thankfully, Rani didn't know this version of him,  since he hadn't visited Sarah Jane Smith since his last regeneration, so there was hope yet.

"Oh, yes, sure," he said quickly, glancing at Missy who had already picked up on his sudden stiffness and was eyeing him curiously, "I'm John, this is Missy, and we need enough things for this wee one so that we don't need to buy anything else for quite a while. Ever, preferably."

Rani laughed. "Okay, sounds good."

"I like these ones," Missy announced, holding up three different blue playsuits (one spotted, one striped, and one plain).

"What's his name?" the girl asked, smiling at the baby in question.

" _She_ is called Charlie," the Doctor said, smirking at Rani's surprise.

"Right, sorry, I just assumed with the blue-"

" _You're_ wearing blue, dearie, and you're a girl as far as I can see, though do correct me if I'm wrong on that point," Missy remarked, frowning at Rani, who flushed.

"No, you're right, it was pretty stupid of me to assume that, the whole blue and pink thing is ridiculous anyway," she said, "I even wrote an essay on it in school."

"Well, that's lovely," Missy said boredly, "Where's the purple ones? No daughter of mine is going without some purple in her wardrobe. I don't suppose you've got any that come in black?"

"Black?!" the Doctor and Rani exclaimed their horror simultaneously.

"You're not dressing my daughter in black," the former told the Time Lady, holding Charlie that much closer to his chest as if the mere thought might damage her. "I'll be hard pressed enough to keep your bad influence off her as it is!"

" _My_ bad influence? You're a self-professed idiot, isn't that something we should want to keep away from her?"

"Better an idiot than a psychopath," he growled, making Missy snort derisively and Rani's eyebrows disappear almost into her hairline even though she wisely kept her mouth shut.

What followed was about another fifteen minutes of arguing, half of which thankfully was not witnessed by Rani because she had to help some other customers, which gave the Doctor a chance to explain to Missy who she was and discourage her unhelpful offer to disintegrate the girl once the transaction was complete.

Finally they were up at the counter and buying the various sets of clothes they had bought (quite a few in sizes up so that they wouldn't have to come back the moment Charlie grew). The Doctor was calm and letting Charlie play with his finger again while Missy had an elbow on the counter and looked bored but not menacingly so.

"She's a beautiful baby," Rani said as she put their purchases into some bags and smiled at them, "And trust me, I see enough to know. Is she your first?"

Missy replied in the affirmative while the Doctor did not. "Our first together," Missy said, making sure to sound rather proud of it, "Well, our only. One is plenty at our age."

"She's going to be trouble," the Doctor said, sighing because he adored how she was right now and already was afraid of her changing into anything resembling her mother.

"Yeah, she is," Missy said through a large grin, "That's my girl."

Rani seemed relieved that they were finally getting along peaceably, and smiled widely at them as she handed over the clothes they had bought. "Best of luck with her, then, I'm sure she'll be great."

"Thanks for your help," the Doctor told her, thinking that one day, depending on how it all worked out, he might pay a visit to Bannerman Road and see if Rani remembered him at all or realised just what she had been privy to.

* * *

 

"...and then I stole his body! It was quite easy too, actually, I'd recommend it if you ever need to, though hopefully not for a while-"

"What the hell are you telling her?" the Doctor asked as he entered the room to find Missy holding up Charlie and reciting a story that he was doing his best not to recognise as the one of how she had murdered Nyssa's father.

"Just some of our previous adventures," she said, shrugging, "wee Charlie deserves to know how her parents entangled over the centuries."

He shook his head at how she could make it sound dirty and jabbed his finger at her in disapproval. "I won't have you corrupting her. She needs bedtime stories that are exciting but aren't going to turn her into a lunatic. She needs my kind of stories."

"With all that 'giving people a chance' and 'good always wins' rubbish?" She snorted. "I don't think so."

The argument that followed spanned over an hour, for some of which Charlie got put in her crib (though the Doctor would have sworn the baby was watching them and refusing to sleep, as if she were  _listening_ , which due to being Gallifreyan, she actually could be), just so that her parents could make more dramatic gestures to emphasise their respective points.

* * *

 

In the few months that followed, the Doctor found himself making a habit of sleeping on the couch beside the crib where his daughter slept. It wasn't as if he was picky about where he got the small amounts of shuteye he lived off, and he preferred doing it where he could keep an eye on Charlie, since Missy had a tendency to disappear to god knows where on a regular basis. (He did often check she wasn't doing anything too evil or disastrous, but sometimes he just didn't have the energy.)

"Who would have thought that something like her could have come from something as complicated as you and me?"

Missy's soft voice stirred him and he sat up, blearily rubbed his eyes, and blinked at her. She was standing by the crib, one hand inside and probably holding Charlie's. In the dim light he was struck by how beautiful she was. Her angular face was augmented by the shadows of the room and her blue eyes glinted in the dark. Her hair was half falling out of her messy bun, meaning there were distracting stray brunette curls around her face and neck. Her shirt was pale and loose and accompanied only by denim shorts that shouldn't have looked good on her but did.

She was beautiful.

He swallowed slowly, making himself focus on the words she had spoken.

"Certainly not me," he said, "but then the universe is full of surprises."

"But she's a good one, isn't she?" Missy's voice actually sounded warm, and that was almost more surprising than the fact that the two of them now shared a baby. She looked at him with wide eyes that were surprisingly open, almost vulnerable. "She's a good surprise."

"Definitely good. Probably the only good thing we ever did."

"Speak for yourself," she muttered, but she approached him and the couch anyway, coming to sit across his hips and smile when he made no move to stop her.

The Doctor let his hands come to rest on her waist and frowned up at his oldest friend and enemy. "This is insanity. All of it."

"Not her," Missy murmured as her fingertips traced the lines of his face.

"Not her," he agreed, kissing her against his better judgement. Wanting her was so wrong, needing her even more so, but he was at his weakest when he was with her, and that couldn't be helped. 

He held her tighter because his hearts gave him no other choice.

* * *

 

The Doctor had almost hoped that things might be better after that, after a surprisingly gentle encounter with each other, after a time of connection reminiscent of their school days on Gallifrey.

But it wasn't. She was still impossible, and screwed up in the head. They were both still impatient. He was still cruel to her just as she was cruel to others. And in hindsight, the Doctor should maybe have seen her next move coming.

The next time he slept, he woke up to find the crib empty, and wandered through the TARDIS only to find a recording left on the interface. A hologram of Missy with Charlie in her arms popped up beside him, and even before she started speaking ,he found he knew what she was going to say.

" _Look, Thete, I appreciate your help and all, and it's been fun, but let's be honest, it's not going to work. We've clearly got two very different ideas about how we should be going about this, and I can't have my daughter turn into some supposedly pacifist ape-hugger like you so...this is it for a while, I think."_

The Doctor felt as if she had taken a sledgehammer to his hearts, and he gripped the console with one hand as he watched the rest of the message.

" _Don't worry, you'll see us both again soon, I just need to keep her until she's old enough to keep all your silly ideas out of her head. She'll be safe with me, promise, but don't bother trying to find me, you know you won't. Bye for now dearie."_

The reality that he had just lost his daughter to her homicidal psychopath mother was a bit too much for him to be able to handle, especially when he realised that even if he did see Charlie again like she promised, the girl would almost definitely be like Missy - cold and dubiously sane and of the idea that killing and domination was fun.

He shuddered at the thought, but found he couldn't wallow in his thoughts for long. Upon remembering that one Clara Oswald was still waiting for him to pick her up about a week after he dropped her off, he hurried to land the TARDIS in her flat and to hug her to him fiercely.

He should have realised that the hug in itself - let alone the intensity of it - would tip her off to the fact that something was seriously wrong.

"Doctor, what is it?" Clara asked, pulling away and staring at him with those wide and out of control eyes that were full of worry.

He quietly informed her that he wasn't quite ready to say, but assured her that he would tell her at some point.

"It's been longer for you, hasn't it?" When she guessed, he didn't try to deny it. "Longer than usual."

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Hey," she said gently, coming to put her hand up on his shoulder comfortingly, "You know what you need?"

"What?"

"Some planets."

The Doctor gave her a minute smile and the two of them entered the TARDIS to find some new worlds to explore, just the two of them, the way they liked it. And while having Clara at his side again was more soothing than he would ever admit to even himself, he knew his hearts weren't going to rest until he saw Charlie again and had proof that she was okay.

As it turned out, he only had to wait a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is isn't going to have too much angst in it, but at the same time I have to be realistic with the characters. This is the Doctor and the Master, it was never going to be smooth sailing. 
> 
> I've left the actual circumstances of how Charlie came to fruition vague due to the blurry canon around Time Lord reproduction. This way, people can imagine it going however they want, rather than a pregnant Missy waddling around smashing through people's beliefs. (Though if you want to imagine pregnant!Missy taking over worlds with a big belly go ahead cos it's hilarious.)


	3. Enlisting The Help of an Ex-Nanny

Clara stayed for an entire week. The Doctor found his mood to be lighter than it had been in a long time - provided he avoided thinking about Charlie and Missy. That was a fast track to unintentional sullen silence, which Clara had started noticing. She was patiently waiting for him to tell her what had gone so wrong that he had come to her for a hug, but he was intending to tell her soon.

He just didn't know how. His weakness when it came to Missy wasn't anything he was proud to admit. He wasn't one to admit any weakness. But the weakness had had a consequence too large to keep from Clara.

Unfortunately, on the day Clara was thinking of leaving (though she hadn't yet), he lost his opportunity to talk to her about it when something collided with the TARDIS and latched onto it. He had enough time to check the scanner and realise it was another TARDIS that had prepared for boarding between the vessels, but not enough to say anything to Clara before Missy strode through the doors - looking thoroughly vexed.

"I can't work with this," Missy told him, holding out a toddler that he immediately recognised with shock to be Charlie. She was holding the girl out in the air by her shirt collar, not unlike how people held puppies or how lioness mothers picked up their young by the scruff of their necks.

The Doctor hurried to grab Charlie before Missy did something horrific like let go of her while she was dangling several feet from the ground. Clara, meanwhile, was standing open-mouthed with shock at what was happening.

"Doctor?!"

"Clara dear, so lovely to see you again," Missy greeted cheerfully, "Now, I'll be back when she's a bit older and less breakable. When she can actually help me instead of hinder me. All that jazz. Alright, I've got things to do. Bye, Thete. Clara." She gave the Doctor a fleeting kiss on the cheek and disembarked.

The Doctor was fairly sure his hearts had skipped multiple beats and were only just starting to work again. He surveyed the little girl in his arms. Gallifreyans aged physically at a similar rate to humans, but stopped when they reached full growth. So while she might be about two years old and looked it by human standards, the girl would undoubtedly be more intelligent than a human two year old.

"Hello you," he said to his daughter, still awed at the very sight of her. Her hair was a light brown and in tight curls around her face and chin. Her eyes were still an icy blue and were very aware and intelligent as they regarded him.

" _Dad,"_ the girl mumbled, in Gallifreyan of all damned things. He realised he shouldn't be surprised that Missy would teach her Gallifreyan over English.

"Do you know English, Charlie?"

Charlie nodded slowly and stuck her thumb in her mouth. The Doctor let out a long sigh and crushed her to him in a tight but still gentle hug. As sad as it was that he had missed some of her earliest years, what was more important was that he had her in his arms now, and even better was that Missy wasn't around. He could teach his daughter morality in her mother's absence and not lose his daughter to the madness of the Master.

"Doctor, what the hell is going on?" Clara asked, and he remembered that his companion knew absolutely nothing about why he had just been handed a small child by a psychotic woman who was supposed to be dead.

"Well, er-" He turned to face her, with Charlie still in his arms, "You know how you knew I was gone longer than usual?"

"Yeah…"

"Before the dream-crabs, back when I thought you were with Danny and I was on my own, Missy found me," he started to explain, "She had teleported out, she was still alive. And I know it was wrong of me, Clara, but her and I are so much more than old friends, it's...more complicated than you could imagine."

Clara just lifted an eyebrow, and looked like she was trying hard to work out if she was angry or hurt.

"Anyway," he muttered, "I - I had a weak moment. But then it was over and she was gone, off to do things I honestly didn't want to know about. And then Christmas happened, and you were back. But after I dropped you back last time, she paid me a visit. And...she had a baby with her. Her baby.  _My_...baby."

Clara's hand flew to her mouth as she eyed Charlie with new comprehension. "Ohmigod."

"She stayed for a bit, and things were almost, you know, good, and then a week ago she left, saying she didn't want me influencing her child." He rolled his eyes and made a face to show the irony of that particular statement. "That was when I came to you."

"She'd just taken your daughter away from you," his best friend breathed, with sympathy starting to replace the shock on her face.

"Charlie was maybe five months old then," the Doctor said, brushing a curl behind the toddler's ear, "It's been a week for me but Missy was gone for much longer. Apparently having a young child is a novelty for her that wears off. Thank god."

"Ignoring the whole 'you had a kid with that monster' thing, because that's too icky to even consider," Clara said, taking a step closer, "She  _is_  adorable. And she has your eyes." Then the brunette human giggled. "Oh my god you're a  _dad_. That's so weird. And kind of perfect actually."

"I've been a dad before," he defended.

Clara grinned. "Yeah, but now you're all grumpy and self-important. And older, people might assume you're her grandfather."

"Been that too."

"You two are so cute."

The Doctor noticed her sappy grin as she eyed him and his daughter and rolled his eyes. "You human females are so generic when it comes to small children, it's embarrassing, it's like going gooey eyed is your baby default."

Clara just hit him on the arm and refused to stop grinning. "Can I hold her?"

The Doctor's immediate reflex was to hold Charlie tighter to his chest, having only just got her back, but when Clara cocked an eyebrow he came to his senses and gingerly handed the child over.

"I need to land us somewhere anyway, I don't have clothes for her size," he said with as much aloofness as possible.

"Does this mean we get to go shopping?" Clara asked slyly, making funny faces at Charlie and making the girl laugh.

He sighed. "Yes. But not London!" The thought of running into Rani Chandra again with a different woman at his side and a significantly older child was not a pleasant one. "Blackpool, you like Blackpool don't you? We'll go there."

Clara frowned at him. "I'm  _from_ Blackpool."

The Doctor frowned back. "Okay, fine, that means you like it though, doesn't it? Or does it mean you hate it? I can never tell with you lot."

"I like it just fine."

"Then stop complaining!"

"I wasn't!"

He pretended to ignore her and let her turn her attention back to his daughter.

"So, her name's Charlie, yeah?" she asked a few seconds later.

"Yes."

"That short for anything?"

"Yes."

"...well, what?"

"Charlotte."

Clara checked something on the tag of Charlie's deep purple dress. "Ah yep, there we go, little printed tag that says...Charlotte Masters."

The Doctor blinked. "Oh for fuck's sake," he exclaimed crossly, cursing Missy to high heaven and back, "that's not even fucking funny, that's - that's beyond ridiculous!" He scowled. "No.  _No_. She can be a Smith. Or, I don't know, Lungbarrow's not really common in your parts, is it? Charlotte Barrow? Charlie Barrow?"

"I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'd go for Smith," Clara said, pulling a face at the 'Barrow' idea.

"Charlotte Smith. Charlie Smith. Yes, that'll be fine, it's just a name, it hardly matters."

"I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say it doesn't matter, but Charlie Smith's cute, so I wouldn't worry." Clara smiled at Charlie. "Now, we haven't been very well introduced, have we? I'm Clara."

"Clara," the toddler replied, only slurring the word a little. The owner of the name beamed.

"She's quick, isn't she?"

"Where's Mummy?"

That had the Doctor and Clara exchanging very unsure looks about how to answer. The former stood so that he could be sure Charlie could see him clearly, and regarded her seriously.

"Your mother is very busy at the moment," he told his daughter, "And she promises she'll be back, but Clara and I are going to look after you for a while. Is that okay?"

Charlie nodded and started sucking on her thumb again. The Doctor let out a breath he had anxiously been holding. Although he was sure Charlie remembered him - Gallifreyan children were known for remembering most of their infancy - she had spent a considerably longer time with Missy and hadn't seen him for about a year and a half, which was about three quarters of her entire life span. Missy was too thoughtless to consider it or care, but they could have faced the very possible scenario of Charlie screaming for her mother the instant she was handed over.

Thankfully, it seemed he had room to be a proper father to the girl, and given all the times he had been far less than an optimal father in the past he was determined to get it right with Charlie. Especially given that he didn't trust her mother as far as he could throw her.

"I'm hungry," Charlie said after a few moments, though it sounded more like 'm hungry'.

"This is going to take a bit of getting used to," Clara said to the Doctor, "A two year old who I can understand and who I know understands me really clearly."

"Did you expect a Time Tot to be as pudding brained as your toddlers?"

"Time Tot?" Clara laughed heartily, only to falter when the Doctor didn't crack a smile. "No. They're not  _actually_ called that, are they?" He just shrugged. "Oh my god, that's adorable. She certainly fits the bill."

"That she does," he agreed, and reached out to show he wanted Clara to hand Charlie back to him, which she did. "Now, let's see what this wee one likes to eat."

"Apples," Charlie told him as seriously as an adorable two year old could, "I like apples."

The Doctor shot Clara an amused look that read 'see, this is going to be easy', while Clara just nodded and grinned at how things had turned out. They agreed on shopping for clothes later and began to walk down the steps to the corridors, seeking out one of the kitchens. Once inside, the Doctor sat down with Charlie while Clara made a beeline for the fruit bowl.

"You know, I only just noticed, but she's got a bit of a Scottish accent, hasn't she?" the human pointed out, and the Doctor blinked.

"I suppose she does." He found himself smiling rather widely at that, apparently enough to unnerve Clara slightly, so he turned his smile to Charlie, who smiled back. "And thank goodness for that, I can't have any child of mine developing a speaking fault and sounding...English. Or, even worse...  _American_."

Charlie giggled, and he had to wonder whether she in any way got the joke (which even for her was very unlikely) or whether she was merely amused by the disdain in his voice.

"Was that funny?" he asked her, half seriously. "Am I funny?"

"Funny looking," Clara interjected, making him roll his eyes. "Seriously, I'm impressed your eyebrows haven't scared her off and made her start crying."

"She spent four months seeing my face every day, she's perfectly accustomed to it," he said, a little offended.

"Yeah but she can't remember that." The Doctor just shot Clara a 'are you sure about that' look. She faltered. "Wait, she can't, can she?"

"Time Lord children are known for having exceptionally good memories of their early youth, she recognised me the moment she saw me, she called me Dad."

"No she didn't-"

" _Dad,"_ Charlie said in Gallifreyan again, giggling, conveniently making her father's point.

"I never said she said it in English," the Doctor said to his companion wryly, making her eyebrows shoot up.

"Was that your language?"

"Yes."

"Does she speak it?"

"Well, I haven't given her a vocabulary test, but yes, I think she's familiar with it."

"Although a bilingual alien two year old is not something I woke up this morning thinking I would have to deal with, I think that I'm enjoying this," Clara admitted as she finished cutting up an apple and put it in a bowl for Charlie. "There you go, sweetie."

"Thank you," Charlie said to her. The tiny Scottish accent made Clara coo and sit down to the Doctor's left to watch Charlie start munching on a piece of apple (the girl was sitting at the table on her father's lap).

"She's so cute," the brunette said, resting her chin on her hand, "watching you being a dad isn't bad either."

The Doctor wasn't sure if he was pleased or irritated by the apparent insinuation that she thought he was cute, and so he bristled to cover himself either way. "I'm just holding a toddler, Clara, it's hardly intensive Dad work. Now, the real question, are you going to help me?"

"Help you?"

"Well, you were a nanny, you have experience with children, plus you know about her unique circumstances and you're around here on a regular basis anyway," he pointed out.

Clara narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you admitting that you need help?"

"She could use a positive female role model," he said offhandedly, "One that isn't her murderous mother who if still with her would probably teach her how to obliterate an entire species in half an hour by the time she was ten."

His companion nodded at that, very clearly agreeing on that particular point, and still seemed to be weighing her response when Charlie held out a piece of apple to her. Clara beamed.

"Why thank you Charlie," she said politely. The child smiled at her and quietly went back to eating her food. "She's not really got your gob, has she?"

"She's  _two_ , Clara."

"Well, I don't know, I thought from what you said, since she's Gallifreyan she might be chattier!"

"She's still  _two!_ "

"Hey, do you want my help or not?"


	4. Not-Family Outings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing dad!Twelve is one of my new favourite things.
> 
> Missy will be back in a chapter or two, but it is important for the sake of the story and the characters (Charlie's in particular) that she is absent right now. There will be similar absences from Twelve and Clara a bit later on.

"Clara, she says she doesn't want pink."

"But she'd look so cute!" Clara held up the polka dotted dress so that the Doctor and Charlie could see it clearly. "Come on, Charlie, why don't you give it a go?"

Charlie, from her father's arms, frowned at the offending garment. "It's yuck."

"Please? For me?"

The child shook her head stubbornly and clutched the Doctor's jacket a little tighter. "Want purple. And blue."

"Okay, Charlie girl, lets have a look at the purple," he said amiably, while quietly thinking that Missy had already managed to at least partially influence her colour preferences. All he could do was hope that his two year old didn't want to be dressed in black.

Once Clara had returned the dress to its place, she joined them and they managed to pick out a nice selection of shirts and leggings, which seemed to be Charlie's preference, but a few dresses made their way in too.

"I never thought I'd see you shopping for little kid's clothes," Clara said, grinning at him.

"The universe is a surprising place, Clara." He let one of his fingers absently play with one of Charlie's curls. "You should have seen the baby shopping for this one. Missy in a baby shop, and the shopgirl was someone who knew my last two bodies. Good thing she didn't recognise me, she'd have gone running back to someone who I would  _much_ rather didn't know about this particular development."

"What, being daddy Doctor cramps your style?"

He snorted. "Hardly. You should know by now, Clara, it's not the child I'm ashamed of."

"What's ashamed?" Charlie asked, with a cute frown that had Clara internally melting.

"It's when your daddy does something stupid and is embarrassed about it later," the human told the Time Tot. The trio then made their way to the counter, where an older woman energetically chatted to them as she scanned all the items.

"You three are so sweet," she said, making them lift their eyebrows, "It's so nice to see grandfathers getting involved with things like this."

Clara coughed awkwardly while the Doctor began spluttering with outrage.

" _Grandfather!_ This child isn't hers, my daughter could never come from a line that was so…" He eyed Clara with a deep level of criticism before finally settling for, "Vertically challenged."

"Oi!"

"She's the hired help," he said with the same annoyed conviction as he nodded to Clara, who bristled.

"Yeah, except you're not actually paying me, so cut the insults, okay?"

The shop lady, meanwhile, looked incredibly embarrassed. "I'm terribly sorry, sir, I shouldn't have assumed."

"You lot always do things you shouldn't do, it's barely worth apologising for," he replied, no doubt meaning humans as opposed to shopworkers. They paid and left in awkward silence before Clara made sure to give him an earful the moment they were out of the shop.

* * *

 

"Has she ever played with other children before?"

Clara's question gave the Doctor pause. Their plan of going to the park with Charlie had seemed so simple and faultless when first brought up, but now he had doubts. It was very unlikely that Missy would have deemed other children, from anywhere in the universe, fit to play with her child, and had likely kept Charlie in isolation. But of course, they had no way of knowing that for sure.

"Why don't you ask her?" He eventually replied. They were approaching the enclosed playground in the center of the park, and Charlie was walking on her own between them but was holding Clara's hand.

So, they stopped, and Clara crouched so that she was on Charlie's level. "Charlie, have you played with other kids before?"

Charlie shook her head dumbly.

"Well, the important thing to remember is that if you're nice to them, they should be nice to you. And then you can have fun together."

"Okay," Charlie said, glancing up at her father, who nodded to convey that he supported Clara's advice.

The three of them entered the playground area. "Now, we'll stay close, but you go have fun, alright?"

Charlie took a few steps towards the playground, turned and gave them a thoughtful look, then waved and set off at a little run towards a small slide. She certainly wasn't lacking in independent spirit or confidence. 

"You're very good at this," the Doctor remarked as they watched the toddler closely in case she was in need of help, "I wasn't sure if you would be. With, you know, the tiny small ones."

"I'm just good," she said smugly.

"It's probably because you  _are_ a tiny small one, just in disguise as someone older."

He got a whack for that.

"You're actually not bad at this either," Clara offered a moment later, "I'm not going to lie, I had my doubts. You as a dad. Responsibility and all that."

"I like to remain full of surprises," he said, smirking. "Though to be fair, this was also something  _I_ didn't see coming."

"Do I need to give you the Talk? Since you apparently were so surprised by how this happened?"

He glared at her and the expression of self amusement that was all over her round face. "Gallifreyan fertility is so low that it's practically in the negatives, Clara. Charlie is so statistically improbable that frankly she's nothing short of a miracle."

Clara raised her eyebrows at him. "Miracle? That's not a word I really hear from you."

"Is it so surprising that if I chose to use it, I would apply it to my daughter?"

"...no, actually. I suppose not."

About five minutes later, the air was filled with the shrill sound of a young child's crying. They, along with other concerned guardians in the area, rushed to see what had transpired and who was upset.

A boy with curly red hair was on the ground, bawling his eyes out, while Charlie stood on the platform that was next to him, just watching him and not saying a word.

"What happened?" The Doctor asked the woman who was crouched by the crying ginger boy.

"She pushed him!"

"I'm sorry?" Clara blinked and looked at Charlie. "Charlie, is that true? Did you push him off?" The platform was only a bit over a foot off the ground, so the boy couldn't be injured in any proper way, but that didn't make it any less surprising.

"Yes," the toddler said.

The four other adults present, including the mother of the wronged boy, turned to look at the Doctor and Clara, who became very sheepish under their gazes. The latter was quick to lift Charlie from the platform and into her arms, while the former stared at his daughter and frowned deeply.

"Why did you do that, Charlie?"

"He pulled my hair."

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at the boy and his mother. "Is that true?" The boy was still drying his eyes, but the mother suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Well, maybe." She gathered herself up. "But that's still no excuse for pushing him like that."

"Charlie, you should have just asked him to stop," Clara told the little girl, who shook her head.

"I did, and he didn't."

"Is  _that_ true?" Clara asked the adults of the group, lifting her eyebrows at them.

The boy's mother, with a flick of her auburn hair, picked up her son and got to her feet. "There is  _no_ excuse for pushing another child."

"We're not saying it wasn't wrong of her, but it's not like she pushed him off London Bridge, he's fine and he was never in any danger. This is her first time trying to play with other kids, she's allowed to make mistakes," Clara said. "Now, Charlie, you realise that was wrong, don't you? To have pushed him off?"

Charlie frowned at her. "I was nice. He wasn't, so I wasn't."

Realising her own words had come back to bite her, Clara scrambled for a better excuse. "Now, Charlie, I know what I said, but two wrongs don't make a right, okay? Even if someone is mean to you, being mean back isn't going to help."

"Toddlers don't understand idioms," one of the other mothers said, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe yours don't," Clara retorted without missing a beat, "I'll thank you to not presume they're the most intelligent ones present." She looked back at Charlie. "When we do something wrong to somebody, we say sorry, yeah? Say sorry, and then he'll say sorry for pulling your hair."

Charlie stared at the ginger boy, who eyed her with distrust. "...sorry."

"Sorry," the boy echoed.

"Good, that's sorted, then," the Doctor said, sounding relieved to not have to linger and act so human and domestic. He reached for Charlie and Clara handed her over. "Now, I think you deserve some ice cream for all this, Charlie girl."

"You're going to  _reward_  her behaviour?" the offended mother asked, eyeing them with disgust. "Well, I don't know why I should have thought some old codger with a trophy wife was going to have good parenting skills."

"We've told her off for pushing a fellow child off the playground," he replied, "And now we're rewarding her for not putting up with your boy's cruelty."

"It was just  _hair pulling_. Boys will be boys-"

The Doctor glowered at her. "And boys who think it's okay to push around girls will be bigger boys who might think it's okay to push them into things like walls. They learn that being rough is okay, from people like you. Well, it's not. Hair pulling is just the start, because it's not about the hair pulling, it's about the lack of respect behind it. I'll be glad when my daughter knows not to put up with anybody that treats her like something to be toyed with."

All the other parents just blinked, stunned.

"Come on, Clara," he said quietly, giving them all one last look of distaste before hitching Charlie more firmly onto his hip and turning to leave.

Clara was so impressed that it took her a few seconds to register what he had said to her. She hurried to catch up, and it wasn't until they were out of the playground area and heading to the nearby shop that sold ice creams that she finally recalled something that had been said.

"I am  _not_ a trophy wife!" she exclaimed, aghast. "That bitch!"

"What?" The Doctor was busy getting bopped on the nose by his daughter, and therefore was not paying much attention to her.

"They thought we were  _married_!" Clara said, thinking about how odd the very idea of it was. "They called me your trophy wife."

"What's a trophy wife?" he asked, blankly. "Aren't trophies supposed to be shiny and for people who win awards? You're not very shiny. Or gold. I've never heard of short brown trophies before."

"Oh, shut up! Trophy wives are young wives for older men, where people assume the men just want them because they're young and pretty and make them look good."

"Sounds like a ridiculous human social concept."

Clara stared at him. "...you mean you don't care that they thought we were married?"

"They're pudding brains, Clara, I don't care about a single electron going around in their skulls, let alone an entire one of their thoughts."

That was when they arrived at the ice cream store, and Clara ordered chocolate while the Doctor opted to share a strawberry one with Charlie. They began to make their way back to the TARDIS with their treats. Clara had to laugh at the sight of her grumpy owl of a best friend trying to share a pink ice cream with his apparently greedy daughter. Every time he tried to pull it towards him to get in a few licks, Charlie yanked it back towards her and took a small bite that got at least some of it on her face.

"You're your mother's daughter, alright," he muttered after a while, having apparently given up and just handed the ice cream over completely, "she was never one for sharing."

That made Clara's smile fade a little. The idea of this child that she already cared for immensely being anything like her psychopathic mother was not a pleasant one. What if even with their influence, she turned out like Missy?

Luckily, the Doctor then asked her a question before she could go too deeply down that road of thought.

"Why do people keep thinking you're her mother?" He seemed genuinely curious.

Clara shrugged. "I'm the right age for it, I guess."

He eyed her more closely. "Are you?"

"Yes!" she said exasperatedly.

If Christmas was anything to go by, it was that he really  _didn't_ see her as having any sort of age. And although at times like this it could get annoying, the idea of being truly timeless in someone's eyes was actually rather nice.

Charlie just kept munching on her ice cream as they continued to bicker over Clara's age and appearance, until her mouth was surrounded by melted sticky pink and they had to stop and wipe her clean with the paper napkins they had been given.

Even Time Lord children, it seemed, were not immune to getting their food all over their faces.


	5. Almost Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff, but with a turn of events that will change Charlie's life forever.

When Clara looked back on it later, it was a strange few years. She never thought she would end up as a nanny/substitute mother figure for an alien toddler - and yet the universe had ways to keep surprising her. Helping the Doctor raise his daughter was one of the most singular, bizarre, and wonderful things she had ever done since she had met him. Not only did it mean she saw a rather new side of him, she also got to bond with his daughter, who was delightful even if she did carry the genes for being the epitome of trouble.

By the time Charlie was three, she was fluent in English and Gallifreyan and could hold full conversations in both - though the Doctor said her Gallifreyan wasn't at adult fluency because that would take many more years due to the sheer number of words and tenses his culture possessed.

Not that Clara particularly cared about any of that. It was the conversations in English that were important, at least to her. Some of them she knew she would never forget. Such as the first time that Charlie came to her room in the middle of the night.

"Clara?"

"Charlie?" Clara sat up in her bed to see the toddler standing in the doorway.

"I had a bad dream."

Her heart panged. "Oh no, where's your dad?"

"I don't know. Busy."

"Yeah, he probably is," Clara agreed, "But he's never too busy for  _you_ , Charlie."

The toddler approached her bed, a tiny creature with big blue eyes that looked like the furthest thing from an alien possible with the way she clutched a teddy bear in the crook of her arm.

"I know, but I wanted to be with you," the girl said, and when she tried to hop onto the bed, Clara helped her so that she was sitting on Clara's lap.

"I suppose I'm probably a bit better at this sort of thing," Clara said, and Charlie nodded. "What was your bad dream?"

"Fire," she told her, a small frown creasing her forehead, "I'm in a room that's on fire. Mummy's meant to be coming back but it's hot and I'm  _scared_. And I can't breathe." Her tiny hands dropped the teddy and went to her throat. "I wake up trying to eat all the air because I still think I need it."

Clara hugged her small charge. "Well, don't worry, you're on the TARDIS and you're safe, and me and the Doctor will always come back for you."

"Mummy came back. I just don't remember because the smoke made me sleep."

The words and their implication sent a chill through Clara's heart. "Hang on, Charlie, are you…are you saying that dream is based off something that actually happened?" When the young girl nodded silently, Clara's hand flew to her mouth. "Missy left you in a burning room?"

Another nod. Clara wanted to be sick.

"Charlie, the Doctor and I, we would never leave you in danger," she told the toddler earnestly, "You wouldn't need to wait for us to come back because we would  _never_ leave you."

"I know."

Overwhelmed by emotion and affection, Clara cupped the girl's face in her hands. "Do you want to sleep in here with me tonight? I'll keep the nightmare away."

"Yes please," Charlie said, grabbing her teddy and shoving her free thumb into her mouth. They shuffled so that the young Gallifreyan was curled into Clara's side. After a few moments, the girl whispered, "I love you, Clara," almost absently and fell asleep before Clara could reply. Clara however lay awake because she was unable to think about what kind of person, even one as screwed up as Missy, could leave their child in a burning room for even a second.

Her arm tightened protectively around the toddler whose hand was across her stomach. Nothing was going to happen to the little girl on  _her_ watch.

_I love you too, Charlie._

* * *

Since she had mastered English and Gallifreyan so early, the Doctor then decided it was time to start expanding Charlie's knowledge, and so taught her the language of Delphon, which was apparently done entirely through the eyebrows.

The first time Clara had walked in on him waggling his already outlandish eyebrows at his daughter only for him to claim he was teaching Charlie a language, she had been sure it was a joke until Charlie made a waggle of her own back that had the Doctor snorting.

After that, she decided she didn't want to know.

Charlie mastered Delphon's eyebrow language as well as an intergalactic sign language by the time she was four, which was when Clara recommended some Earth languages. That didn't go down entirely well.

"Clara, I'm trying to get her to branch out! She already knows English, and there are a million other planets with much better languages than French!"

Clara frowned at him. "It doesn't have to be French."

"You know what I mean. Charlie, what do you want to do?"

They both looked at the four year old, who was doing a Sudoku puzzle at the table nearby and chewing on the end of her pencil. She just shrugged at them and started rubbing out some of her answers.

"That's helpful," Clara said sarcastically, "Then again, maybe she doesn't want to learn any more languages."

"I do," Charlie put in without looking up.

"Anything in particular?" The Doctor asked her, lifting an eyebrow.

That time she did look up, and she rested her head on her hand. "Can I learn Raxacoricofallapatorian?"

Her father stared at her for a moment. Then he turned to Clara. "So what do you think, Spanish?"

"Spanish," Clara agreed.

"But that's got the same letters!" Charlie complained, swinging her little legs that were nowhere near the ground from where she was sitting on the dining room chair. "That's boring."

"If it's so boring, then it's easy and when you're done, you can learn Russian."

Charlie's big blue eyes bore into him as she chewed on the pencil thoughtfully. "Okay," she said through a mouthful of pencil. "And  _then_ something that's not from Earth?"

"Sure."

* * *

So Charlie started learning Spanish, and within four months was fluent enough and got to move on to Russian as she had wished.

By the time the week of her fifth birthday rolled around, she was almost fluent in that too, but Clara was far too busy trying to think of ideas for the girl's birthday to care too much about what languages she was learning. It was, however, far more difficult to get the Doctor excited.

"It's just a birthday, Clara."

"Yeah, but we haven't done much with her other two, and this is five, this is big!"

"Three and four were big too, Clara, but Time Lords don't celebrate birthdays much, we live too long. It gets ridiculous."

"Yeah but she's not centuries old yet. She's five. And she would love a little party or something."

"With who? She's made a few little friends on some of our trips, but nobody special."

"With us! What else would she want? I can make a cake, or a soufflé, and we can get her presents and play games or take her somewhere special."

The Doctor fixed her with a grudging look. "Fine. But I'm making the cake."

So while Charlie was busy with the intricate mathematical games the Doctor had set up for her in the classroom he used to homeschool her, the Doctor and Clara got to work preparing for her birthday which was the next day if their approximate calculations were correct.

Clara was on decorations and activity planning, which she was fairly sure she was doing an excellent job with. The Doctor meanwhile was on food, and Clara just had to pray that he knew what he was doing. Her present for Charlie was sorted already but she had no idea what the Doctor had gotten his daughter. Part of her thought she didn't  _want_ to know, but in all reality she couldn't have been more curious.

Still, when the next day rolled around, everything seemed to be in place. The Doctor had baked a marvellous cake that was simple but large and round and beautifully decorated with circular Gallifreyan writing which the Doctor had explained said 'Happy Birthday Charlie', or the closest equivalent his culture had to it.

The two of them paused outside Charlie's bedroom door to exchange looks of both nervousness and excitement before entering the room, and in the Doctor's case with the cake in hand, lit candles and all.

" _Happy Birthday to you,"_ Clara sang, not caring about whether she sounded good because Charlie wouldn't care either,  _"Happy Birthday to you."_ Charlie's head popped up from under the covers to blink at them with bleary eyed confusion.  _"Happy Birthday to Charlie, happy birthday to you."_

The girl's eyes widened and she stared at them as a grin bloomed on her face.

"Am I five already?" She asked.

"You sure are," Clara said, smiling at her. "Do you like your cake? Your dad made it all on his own, just for you."

The Doctor laid the cake in front of her and the girl read it almost instantly. Her grin only grew and next thing they knew she had catapulted herself at her father to give him a very tight hug.

"Thank you Dad!"

"You're welcome," he said, smiling into her shoulder, "It's not every day my little kit turns five, is it?"

"What's a kit?" Charlie asked, pulling back to stare at him with a lack of comprehension. Privately, Clara had been wondering the same thing.

"It's you, my wee bairn, only how a badger would probably put it."

She frowned at him. "But we're not badgers."

"No, but it doesn't mean they don't necessarily have good ideas," he said, putting her back on the bed, "Now, do you want to blow out these candles before they set the bed on fire? Be sure to make a wish, because you never know who might be floating around the universe waiting to hear it."

Charlie giggled and bent down over the cake, managing to extinguish all the candles with one strong blow.

"Did you make a wish?" Clara asked. The girl nodded. "And you're not going to tell, are you? Because then it won't come true."

"I know."

"Now, what do you say we take this cake to the kitchen, have a bit, and then get started with the real fun?"

They did just that, stuffing themselves with the rich chocolate dessert the Doctor had made so well before moving to the room that Clara had decorated in purples and blues, much to Charlie's delight. They played Scrabble, and Clara had to hide her embarrassment at losing to a five year old by claiming quietly to the Doctor that she had let Charlie win. In reality, she never stood a chance against a child who played the word 'conglomeration'.

Now, though, they were playing a great game of pretend, with Charlie on Clara's back as they fought the mighty Time Lord and his deadly spoon.

"You think you can beat me, girls?" He taunted, smirking at them. "I fought Robin Hood with this spoon, and won."

"Please, as if Robin Hood has anything on us," Clara retorted.

"The last piece of cake will  _not_ be yours, Doctor!" Charlie cried. "It's mine and only mine!"

"Oi, I thought we were in this together, Charlie girl," Clara said as the girl slid from her back, "What happened to the team?"

"Teams have to share, and I don't like sharing," Charlie replied before racing off in the direction of the kitchen (and by extension, the piece of cake in question). The two adults shared looks of amusement and disbelief before chasing after her.

They were too late. Charlie stuffed the last piece of cake in her mouth just as they skidded through the door, and grinned at them with her mouth still full of chocolate crumbs.

"Well, at least I know my cake went down well," the Doctor said to Clara. "Now, what do we think about presents? One from me, and one from Clara."

"Really?" Charlie said before properly swallowing and beaming. "Do I have real birthday presents?"

"Course you do, it's your birthday, isn't it?" The Doctor asked, and she raced forward to hug him around the middle.

"Thank you!"

The presents were pulled out of the cupboard, both beautifully wrapped in her favourite colours but of very different sizes. Clara took her one, the much larger of the two, and placed it in front of Charlie where she was seated at the dining table.

"This one's from me."

Charlie murmured an expression of gratitude before ripping the paper open to reveal a blue scrapbook with thick paper. The girl's small hands turned the pages to show photos and drawings from her youth: the Doctor with her in his arms as a baby, a sketch he had done of her sleeping when she was two, a drawing of Charlie's from when she was three, a shot of the three of them at Intergalactic Disney World, and so many more.

"Wow," the girl said, eyes wide, "Will we need to keep putting in more pictures?"

"That's the idea," Clara replied, nodding. "There's pictures from today that will be great in there, I can help you stick them in later."

"Thank you!"

"My turn?" The Doctor asked. When his daughter nodded, he placed his present in front of her, which was just smaller than a Rubik's cube. She delicately opened it to reveal a box that when opened contained a necklace with a tiny circular locket.

"Pretty," she said, holding it by its chain and beholding it with delight.

"Useful," the Doctor corrected, moving to open the locket. Inside was not a photograph of any kind but a tiny button amongst a collection of circuits. "This is a pulse beacon, Charlie. If you're ever lost, or in trouble, all you need to do is open this up and press this button. A signal will go straight to the TARDIS and I'll be able to come right to you. I'll always find you."

When the child didn't respond and instead just stared at the gift with new wonder, Clara moved to stand behind her chair.

"Do you want help putting it on, Charlie?"

"Yes please."

Clara gently clasped the locket around her neck. "There."

"Thank you Dad!" Charlie hugged her father around the neck immediately, and his arms happily encircled her small frame.

"You're welcome, kit," he said, "Happy Birthday."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

A trip a month later had them in Victorian London. Needless to say, the Paternoster Gang had not been expecting a third member of the TARDIS team, and especially not one of Charlie's size.

"Doctor," Vastra asked delicately, "Would you care to explain why a small child with your bone structure is with you?"

"Happy accident," the Doctor replied, shrugging, "Just be glad her mother isn't here."

"Oo's her mother?" Jenny inquired.

"Someone I hope you never have the misfortune to meet," Clara told them as they entered Vastra's house, "Seriously, don't even ask. You don't wanna know."

Vastra then turned her attention to the child herself. "And what's your name, my dear?"

"Charlotte," came the response as the child regarded Vastra with great interest, "But they just call me Charlie. You're very pretty. I like your scales."

The Silurian's face immediately softened from the slight apprehension that had been on it. "Do you now? Would you like to touch them?"

"Yes." Vastra bent down so that Charlie could approach her and touch Vastra's cheek and then head spikes. "Oooh." The girl giggled. "Thank you."

"Is she yours? Really properly yours?" Jenny asked the Doctor, wide-eyed.

"Yes, of course she's mine, she looks like me and she's got two hearts, what more do you want? I think you'll also find she's fluent in ten languages if that might help you believe it."

"Is she fully Time Lord?"

"Yes. Now, if we could focus on the current attack on London, that would be potentially good for the city."

"But how is that possible, if your people are gone?"

"They're not all gone," Clara told them softly, "Not anymore. Not quite. But really, it's complicated and it's not nice. Don't ask him. Just let him do what he does best. I'll look after Charlie."

So they nodded and hurried after the Time Lord who had disappeared into their sitting room.

* * *

"I'm going to get some ice cream, you want anything?"

"No thanks," Clara said to the Doctor, not even looking up from her book.  _Pride and Prejudice_ never got any less absorbing no matter how many times she read it.

By the time he returned, she had almost reached her favourite part of the book.

"Where's Charlie?"

Clara dragged her gaze up from the pages. "What do you mean, she's right over-" The playground opposite their park bench was empty save for the one child Charlie had been playing with, who was now clearly on his own.

The Time Lord and his best friend made a beeline for the boy.

"Where did Charlie go?" Clara asked him. "Your playmate, the girl with the curly hair."

"She went with her mum," he replied from where he was hanging from the monkey bars, "Over there." He pointed with his free hand and when they turned to look they could see a familiar silhouette alongside Charlie's.

Clara's heart stopped. "No," she said at the same time that the Doctor did. They both raced off after his daughter, sprinting as hard as they could.

"Charlie!" The Doctor yelled. "Charlie!"

As they drew nearer, Missy glanced over her shoulder at them. "Oh, look who it is. Eyebrows and eyes, what a pair." She properly turned so that she and Charlie were facing them. "Charlie, dear, put your hand on Mummy's manipulator, there's a good girl." Her daughter did exactly that, and with a smile on her face. "Now, not one step closer, either of you," she told the Doctor and Clara as they came to a halt only two metres away, "Or we're gone in a flash. That's it."

"Don't you take her, you monster," Clara spat, "Give her back to us."

Missy's eyes widened and she laughed manically. "Oh Clara. Poor, deluded Clara. Have you come to care for her? Do you like to fancy yourself her mother? I bet you do, you beautiful little egomaniac. That's almost as cute as it is irritating."

Clara's cheeks coloured. "Family isn't just about blood. And  _I_ would never leave her in a room that was on fire, which I know you did!"

"She's here and alive, isn't she?" Missy asked, shrugging. "I hardly think my parenting techniques are any concern of yours."

"She's not old enough to be useful to you yet," the Doctor interrupted, glowering at his oldest enemy and friend, "Let her stay with me."

"No, I don't think so." Missy glanced down at Charlie and gave her a small smile. "This I can work with. Look at her, so sharp and so pretty. We made her, can you believe it?" Her gaze lifted to hold the Doctor's eyes with a weight that had him frozen. "You and me all caught up in each other…who knew it would come to this?"

"Missy," he said, voice pleading, "Please. Don't do this. Don't take her away from me."

"What do you think, Charlie?" Missy asked their daughter. "What do you want to do? You've been with your dad and Clara for a long while now, do you want to live with me for a bit?"

Charlie nodded.

"Charlie, no," Clara breathed, crouching so that she was on the girl's level, "You like it on the TARDIS, with your dad, with the Doctor, and with me, remember?"

"Yes," the girl said, staring at her, "But I want to be with Mum too. I'll come back later."

"No, you won't," Clara said through a sheen of tears, "She won't let you."

"Poppycock, of course I will," Missy said lightly, "Eventually."

"If you hurt one hair on her head-"

Missy snorted but fixed her with a cold look. "Don't try and threaten me, Ozzie, I'm the Queen of Evil and you're a schoolteacher with delusions of grandeur. Grow up."

"Charlie, remember what I told you on your birthday," the Doctor said slowly. Charlie nodded.

"Remember that we love you," Clara told the girl, who nodded.

"I love you too."

Missy pulled a disgusted face. "Urgh, and on that note, I think we'll be off. See you in a couple of years. Probably." Her hand came down on the vortex manipulator and she and Charlie disappeared from sight in a crackle of bright blue energy.

A sob escaped Clara's lips and she turned to the Doctor, who was still as stone and staring at the place his daughter had been only a moment before. There were unshed tears in his eyes.

"Not again," he whispered, "No." A noise of great fury escaped him but Clara pulled him into a hug before he could properly unleash it. "I lost her again."

"I know," she said, feeling his body tremble in her arms and knowing hers wasn't much better, "Because this time I lost her too. But it's okay, she's wearing the locket, we can find her and get her back -"

"That only works if she presses the button," the Doctor said gruffly, "You saw how willingly she went with her. She doesn't think she needs rescuing."

"Well, the moment she realises, the moment she wants out of there, we'll be there," Clara promised.

His grip on her became more solid and they stood there at the edge of the park at a complete loss as to what to do other than hold each other all the tighter and weep for their loss.

Half a universe away, the child they all but mourned had no idea of the hurt she had just caused and no intentions of touching her locket any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we're up to Missy's parenting, and next chapter will finally start with Charlie's perspective on things!


	6. Mother of Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Missy's parenting kicks off with less murder than expected.

When the light faded and they were somewhere else, Charlie's first thought was not of the new scenery but of how queasy her stomach was.

"That's not nice," she said, clutching it and frowning up at her mother.

"No, but we don't need to do it again, my TARDIS is right there," Missy told her, pointing to a pillar right behind the throne that was the centrepiece of the room, "Besides, we're not going anywhere just yet, I've still got things to do. First things first, though, we've got to get you some prettier clothes, Charlie dear."

Unlike with the Doctor, who would have just taken her to the wardrobe for something, Missy called a seamstress into the grand hall.

"You! Measure my daughter and whip her up something nice so I can throw those rags she's wearing into the fire."

"Yes, of course, Mistress," the woman stammered, and hurried to kneel by Charlie and take to her with the measuring tape in her pocket, "Anything specific?"

"Make her match me, that way people will know exactly who she is," Missy said, waving her hand boredly. Charlie eyed her mother's outfit of a black lace long sleeved shirt and dark leather trousers, and decided that she would definitely not mind trying something like that herself. "Give her a wee dress just like my top, it'll be perfect. And some nice flat boots, only thing practical for a girl her age, she's got to be free to get into any sort of trouble." Missy's boots had high and downright spiky heels, and Charlie definitely didn't want any of the sort, but found she enjoyed looking at them.

"Where are we, Mummy?" Charlie asked as she watched the seamstress leave as quickly as she had arrived.

"Well, dear, this is the third moon of Matricia, so teeny and insignificant it doesn't even have its own name," Missy explained, taking her daughter's hand again and leading her up the steps so that she could sit on the throne and have Charlie on her lap, "But it's got more plutonium than anywhere I've ever seen, so I came along, took over, and made them start mining it for me. In a couple of weeks we'll have it all and then you and I can find somewhere new. Does that sound fun?"

Charlie's eyes ran over the view of the room from up on the throne. She liked it a lot, feeling high up and important. Not that she hadn't felt important with her father and Clara, but this was different.

"Can the new place have a special chair for me too?" She asked her mum. "I like it up here."

Missy laughed. "Yes, dearie, I think we could manage that. But for now, you're welcome to sit up here any time I'm not, and to sit on my lap when I am. That'll have everyone knowing you're my daughter in no time."

Charlie grinned, and shut her eyes contently when Missy's nimble fingers began combing through her hair.

"Look at your hair, it's so pretty," the Time Lady cooed, "You got that from me you know. And your blue blue eyes, though I suppose your father helped with that too. What's he been teaching you, anyway? Anything good?"

"I can speak Spanish and Russian and I know Delphon."

"Hm."

Then Charlie lifted her hands and signed,  _I also know this sign language because Dad said it's the most used one in the universe._

"Well, that's not a total loss then," Missy said, "I'll teach you a few languages if you want, much better ones, but frankly with a translator circuit handy you're not going to need one for a while."

"I like languages. And one day if I want to travel on my own I might need to know them, because I won't have a TARDIS."

"That's true," her mother agreed quietly, resting her head partially on Charlie's small shoulder, "That's very true. Languages it is then, but you're learning some proper science while you're here to. And how to run a planet, I can't have my daughter not knowing how to run a planet."

"Okay."

* * *

Missy later brought Charlie into her TARDIS, gave her a brief tour, and organised a room to be made for her. The calibrations she set would take several hours to complete, but she promised her daughter that the room would be worth the wait.

By the time they re-emerged and eaten the small feast laid out for them for dinner, the seamstress was done.

"Yes, that'll do nicely," Missy remarked when Charlie tried on the dress and boots. "Look at her. My wee princess of evil." She then dismissed the seamstress.

"Am I evil?" Charlie asked, a little worried.

"Well, maybe not yet," her mother said as she smoothed Charlie's dress for her, "But we've got time."

"But isn't being evil bad?"

Missy snorted. "You've certainly been spending too much time with your father and that Clara Oswald. Don't worry, we'll get that nonsense out of your head soon enough."

"So…being evil isn't bad?"

"Not as you seem to understand the word, dear." Missy sat back on her throne so that she could watch Charlie – who was still in the centre of the room – with a keener eye. "Bad doesn't mean you shouldn't do it, it just means certain people will think you shouldn't. Being bad is the most fun you'll ever have."

It all sounded quite confusing. She remembered her mother being very different to her father – her father was nice to other people and not just her, though acted grumpy even if he really wasn't – but this whole good/bad/evil thing was more complicated than the Doctor had made it seem. But apparently Missy was more knowledgeable on the subject so perhaps it wasn't his fault that he had over-simplified it.

"I'm a bit confused," Charlie admitted, and her mother just smirked.

"I'll bet you are. That's alright, we'll get there."

"Okay."

"Now, go look in the mirror over there, you need to see how nice you look in your new clothes!" Missy clapped her hands happily and gestured to a wall of mirror to the right of her. Charlie did as she was told and approached it so that she could see her new dress properly. It  _was_ nice, with its dark colour, lace sleeves and bouncy skirt.

But the boots were her favourite. They were thick and sturdy and Charlie felt like she could do anything in them. She grinned at herself in the mirror.

"We might need to get you some hair ties or ribbons to keep that hair of yours in check. Not all the time, because it would be a crime to restrain such beautiful hair, but you might need it out of your eyes for certain things."

"Clara usually did my hair, but sometimes Dad would," Charlie said, and she saw her mother scowl in her peripheral vision.

"Of course she did," she muttered. "Well, I'm your mother, and I'll do your hair some of the time, but I'm going to teach you how to do it yourself. You're what, five years old now? You're perfectly capable of doing your own hair. My daughter will be self-sufficient thank you very much."

"I'd like to be able to do my own hair," the girl mused.

"Of course you would. I mean, I haven't been a woman that long, but learning how to do my hair was certainly one of the more interesting parts of the change. You're never too old to learn new things, Charlie, remember that."

* * *

Charlie took several deep breaths to contain her excitement as her mother led her down the TARDIS corridor towards her newly completed bedroom. Missy's hands were over her eyes but as the door swung open, they disappeared and Charlie got to see her new room and gape at it.

She couldn't be entirely sure where the walls were because they were all projecting the image of a treetop and sky, with nothing but trees and clouds for miles (though she could maybe see an ocean in the distance). The floors were wooden panelling and shelves went around the irregular edges of the room – that was where the walls were, but it had taken her a few seconds to realise – up to about her height, giving the whole place the appearance of a treehouse on the top of a tree in the middle of a forest.

A round bed built into the floor dominated the space of the room and Charlie immediately squealed and ran to jump onto it. The mattress had a huge amount of bounce which could only be an excellent thing.

"Thank you, Mum!" She said, laughing and looking around her with awe. "It's so pretty, it's so weird, I love it!"

"Yeah, it's rather good, isn't it?" Missy asked smugly. "One of my better designs. Oh, and that panel by your pillow controls the look of the room. There are four different settings. This one's the default, but there's also night time, Gallifrey, and the storm setting."

Charlie immediately hit the night time button and beamed when the room dimmed and the ceiling above her filled with twinkling stars. She changed to the Gallifrey setting and watched as the sky turned burnt orange and all the trees became silver and sparkling. Mountains in the distance framed a sparkling glass dome – the Citadel that her father had told her about several times.

"It's important you remember where you really come from," Missy said, almost absently, before focusing. "But come on, try the storm setting, it's good fun."

When Charlie hit the button, the projection shifted so that her treehouse had a ceiling and walls (or appeared to), and 'outside' a ferocious wind howled while the sound of thunderous rain pounded on the ceiling and walls. All she could see outside the faux windows was darkness and streaks of rain.

Charlie laughed at the wondrous sounds. "I like this one!"

Missy chuckled. "Yes, I thought you might."

Even so, Charlie switched it back to default before jumping off the bed and running to hug her mother very tightly around the middle. "Thank you thank you thank you! This is the best present I've ever had!"

"I'm not surprised, with the company you've been putting up with. I give the  _best_ presents, even if sometimes they go unappreciated."

As she hugged her mother, it occurred to Charlie that she had briefly forgotten about the scrapbook from Clara – which was still in the Doctor's TARDIS – and the locket from her father which had the pulse beacon inside, which she was still wearing.

Well, the room was her best  _big_ present then. But Missy didn't need to know about the details.

"I want to see Gallifrey again," Charlie said after a while, and hurried back to the control panel to switch it to the Gallifrey setting. "Can you tell me about it? Daddy doesn't like talking about it."

"No, I don't suppose he does," Missy whispered. She moved to lie down beside Charlie on the bed and looked up by the sky that held twin suns. "One day we'll be able to take you back there, you know. Not sure when, but some day."

"Really?"

"Really really. Now, what did you want to know?"

"How did you and Dad meet?"

Missy laughed and propped herself up on her elbow to regard her daughter with fond amusement. "Now that's a very long story."

"So?"

Her mother shrugged. "Well, I imagine your father's told you that I haven't always been a girl. For most of my life, all the way up until this regeneration, I was a boy. A handsome, wicked boy. Or rather, a lot of different handsome and wicked boys. And when I was eight, and just starting at the Academy, I met another boy, a very pretty one who was different from the others. Everyone called him Theta Sigma."

Charlie giggled. "That was Dad, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was. We made friends straightaway, we just clicked the way people destined for each other do. And oh, the trouble we got into…"


	7. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Twissy. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry about the wait. Uni can suck sometimes. 
> 
> But it's a week til more canon Twissy stuff!

Charlie sat on her mother's throne with her bowl of breakfast. Over the last couple of weeks it had become her favourite place to eat in the mornings, since her mother was almost always off doing something else and therefore didn't require the seat for herself.

Just as she had stuck the spoonful of the bizarre purple substance in her mouth, a worried courtier entered the room and halted at the sight of the five year old on the throne. All the same, he was quick to give a tiny bow. It had only taken a week for everyone on the moon to learn exactly who Charlie was and how Missy expected her to be treated. Charlie just thought the whole thing was quite funny. She'd never had anyone bowing and curtsying to her before, and now people were doing it left right and center.

"Miss Charlotte," the courtier stammered, "I was told that the Mistress wanted to see me. Do you know where your mother is?"

"No," Charlie said simply, spoon still in her mouth, "Sorry." She put another spoonful in her mouth.

"Not to worry, I'm here," Missy announced grandly as she strode through the double doors, "No need to fret, whatever your name is." She regarded him more critically. "You're the sort of helpful one, yeah? Who got the upper class to accept my presence and let me get on with my work?"

"Er, yes," he said, dropping to his knees in front of her while she smirked, "You wished to see me?"

"Oh yes, that." The Time Lady barely spared him a look as she ascended the steps that led to her throne. "I just thought I'd inform you that you can have your moon back. I'm done with it. So the two of us will be on our way now. Come along, Charlie, and leave that horrid food here, we'll go and find you something decent."

Charlie considered it, and did as she was told a moment later.

"Thank you, merciful one," the courtier grovelled, still on his knees but now with his head bowed a little, "We have been humbled by your presence."

"Sure, sure," Missy said, waving her hand boredly, "See if you can make anything out of what's left of this place."

* * *

With their now hefty deposit of plutonium, the mother and daughter had a few relaxing nights on their TARDIS before Missy had found her new target for controlling and scavenging. She kept her daughter in the TARDIS for the initial take over, just because a five year old wasn't going to be too much help in that area yet, but was soon able to bring Charlie out.

Charlie stepped out of the TARDIS and felt the eyes of an entire room of people on her as she stood there clutching her mother's hand. The inhabitants of the planet had pale yellow skin and darker yellow hair, and all were about seven feet tall and incredibly thin.

"On your knees, people of Tristine," Missy commanded, her voice cold and authoritative. The yellow people hurried to do as they were told. "Now. My daughter Charlotte is to be treated with the same reverence as you would bestow upon your new Queen and Mistress. Anything she asks for, you give. Any form of address she requests, you comply. You will briefly live to regret any failures on your part to observe this. Now get up and get back to whatever it is you usually do around here."

The crowd dispersed, murmuring amongst themselves in hushed and concerned tones. Only a small group remained.

"The thrones you have requested are being brought here as we speak, my queen," said a Tristine woman with green eyes that held a quiet reluctance. Charlie supposed she probably wasn't happy about her mum being in charge now. "But as the former governors of the planet, what would you have us do with ourselves?"

"Keep governing," Missy replied, as if it were obvious and even having to say it bored her, "I don't have time to deal with every single matter, you lot are far more equipped to deal with that. It just means that now you answer to me."

"Understood." While the green eyed woman still seemed wary, she had relaxed slightly upon hearing that not much was changing.

"What's your name?"

"Darla."

"Pretty name," Missy said, making Darla lift a pale eyebrow at her with badly hidden surprise that quickly morphed into suspicion, "I'll be sure to remember it. I'll learn and remember everyone's names. And do you know why?"

When several of them opened their mouths to answer, she held up a hand to silence them.

"That was a question for my daughter." She turned her head to Charlie, who blinked at her. "Well, Charlie dear? Why would I bother learning their names?"

"In case you need to find them?" Charlie guessed, not quite sure. "It would be harder to find them if you didn't know who to tell people you were looking for."

"True, that's true, but why else?"

The girl considered it, thinking back to the things her mother had done on the moon they had recently left. "In case someone makes a mistake? You'd need to know who to punish." She didn't actually know what the punishments were or if they were always the same, just that they had involved dungeons last time. Her mother had said that those sorts of things didn't matter until she was older.

A few of the Tristine governors shared looks of unease at a child of her size speaking with such clarity, or she assumed that was what it was because she didn't know why else they would be concerned, unless maybe they didn't like the idea of getting punished.

Missy, meanwhile, just beamed and clapped her hands together. "Oh, look at her. So clever already. You're right, Charlie, of course." When her gaze returned to the governors, it fell flat with boredom. "You can all run along now too. I'll get to the rest of your names tomorrow."

The governors were only halfway out of the door when Missy added one more thing.

"Oh, and Darla dear?"

Darla tensely turned around to look at them. "Yes?"

Missy cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, my queen?"

"Better. Be sure to make it known that any resistance will not be tolerated. My slaughter of the planet guard was downright pleasant compared to what I'm capable of."

Darla, if possible, turned an even paler shade of yellow and just nodded before rushing out of the door and leaving the mother and the daughter alone.

Charlie glanced curiously at her mother. "Did you kill the planet's guards?"

"Sure did. It was the perfect way in. This lot get attacked all the time. By slipping poison into the guard food, it meant I could swoop in as their new saviour who can keep the other evil aliens at bay. They could only agree."

"So you made them need you."

"Exactly."

"That's smart," Charlie said, thinking not for the first time that her mother was definitely the more intelligent of her two parents.

Missy smirked down at her. "Well, being the Queen of Evil does take a fair degree of genius, my darling."

She took one of her daughter's hands and grabbed her small remote out of her plum jacket. One click on it had an upbeat song pouring out of the open TARDIS doors, and a moment later they were spinning around the room.

"Do you want to learn one of the dances we did on Gallifrey, Charlie dear?"

Charlie nodded earnestly, and so Missy took her hands properly and began to walk her through the steps. They became so engrossed in the lesson that they didn't notice someone else had entered the room until about a minute after he arrived.

It was, unsurprisingly, Missy who spotted him first.

"Doctor," she said, stiffly, her grip on Charlie's hand tightening until it almost hurt. "Silent entrances aren't really your style. Hoping to steal our daughter back? Stealth was never your strong suit, you know."

The Doctor looked very tired, and he just sighed and shook his head before lamely holding up the literal white flag (or rather, handkerchief) in his hand. "I'm not here to try anything. I just wanted to see my daughter."

Charlie beamed, and would have run to him if her mother hadn't had such a firm hold on her.

Missy narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, trying to assess if he was telling the truth, but apparently decided she believed him because she released her daughter, who immediately ran into the arms of her father.

The child was still glad she had chosen to go with her mother, but she  _had_ missed her father and Clara terribly. It was good to be able to breathe in the scent of his old jumper again.

"I've missed you, kit," he told her, letting out a content sigh.

"Kit?" Missy asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"It's what badgers call their babies," Charlie said cheerfully as she was finally able to turn to look at her mother again. The older female did not look impressed.

"You're not a badger, Charlotte," she said flatly.

The Doctor rolled his eyes as he got to his feet but kept a firm grip on Charlie's hand. "Well, that's a little obvious. I'd frankly be astounded if she was."

"You're hilarious."

"I think I understand that sarcasm thing now," Charlie said quietly, looking between the two of them, "It's when you say something but mean the opposite."

Missy stared at her for a moment before laughing. "Yes, dear. And I suppose we should be grateful that at least your father didn't bring his little pet with him. There's only so much tiny control freak I can take." Her gaze moved back to the Doctor. "I assume you didn't bring her because you knew she would never be okay with dropping in and not trying to take little Charlie back."

He said nothing, which seemed to tell Missy that it was true if the way she smirked was an indicator. Charlie was still learning about the finer points of humanoid interaction, and anything between her parents was even more difficult to understand than most things.

"Dad, do you want to see my room?!" Charlie asked excitedly, yanking on his hand.

His eyebrows shot up, but he nodded and let her drag him into Missy's TARDIS and down the corridor until they came to her room, which was currently on the default treetop setting.

"Isn't it pretty?"

The Doctor blinked at the room, his eyes taking it in with great surprise. "Yes. I daresay it is." He looked over his shoulder at Missy, who had followed them and was leaning on the doorframe. "You did this?"

"No need to sound so surprised," she drawled.

He went a little pink, which Charlie thought was funny. "No, not surprised, exactly," he stammered, scratching his head, "You're brilliant enough for it, I just thought you would have considered such a project a waste of your time."

"As if anything for our daughter could be a waste," Missy said, rolling her eyes at him, coming to put her hand on his shoulder and smile coyly, "It's nice to hear you still think I'm brilliant, though."

He snorted. "Of all your shortcomings, Missy, your brilliance has never been one of them."

"You really know what to say to a girl," she purred, looking at him with something in her eyes that Charlie didn't understand in the slightest.

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably and very pointedly moved his attention back to Charlie. "So, Charlie girl, does this room do anything else I should know about?"

"Yes!" The girl chirped, and ran to the sky controls to put it on the Gallifrey setting, knowing that he would love it. Sure enough, his eyes widened as the dome ceiling turned to burnt orange and had twin suns appear, with the three-dimensional image of the citadel on the far wall.

When he didn't say anything and just continued staring, Charlie frowned.

"Don't you like it?"

He snapped to look at her and immediately dropped to sit on the bed next to her. "No, Charlie, it's beautiful. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." He glanced back at Missy, who just shrugged.

"If she can't grow up there, she can at least get to sleep under the same sky."

The Doctor nodded, and pulled Charlie onto his lap. "So what has your mother told you about Gallifrey?"

"She told me how she met you, when you were little boys," Charlie said, smiling at him.

"Everyone deserves to know how their parents met, after all," Missy pointed out as she came to join them on the bed, her hand playing with one of Charlie's curls, "And our story is better than most."

"It really depends on your definition of better," the Doctor retorted, but softened a moment later. "Though I suppose one way or another, it  _is_ quite the story." He tilted his head back to look up at the imitation of his first sky. "How much has she told you about Gallifrey itself, Charlie?"

"Not very much," Charlie admitted, "We've busy."

"I bet," he muttered, but smiled at her a moment later, "Do you want me to tell you about Gallifrey?"

She beamed. "Yes please!"

So they sat there for several hours, and Charlie let herself be taught about her heritage by her father (and her mother's occasional interjections). After a while, the soothing tones of her father's voice lulled her into near sleep, and she snuggled against him. She was only half aware of them shifting her off his lap and tucking her into her bed properly.

"Our kit," Missy's voice murmured.

"I thought you thought that was stupid."

"Thought I'd try it out. It's not so bad."

The Doctor's lips pressed to the top of Charlie's head. "Goodnight, kit."

* * *

When Charlie woke a few hours later, she wiped at her eyes and wandered out of her room, calling for her parents as she entered the hallway. They didn't answer, so she went through to the console room and poked her head out of the doors.

The two thrones had been established in their absence, one noticeably smaller than the other. What surprised Charlie was seeing her father sitting on the larger one, with Missy sitting on top of him. He seemed to be saying her name. Not Missy, but Mistress, and he was saying it quietly as his hands rested on her waist, almost like he didn't want to.

"Why are you sitting on Mum's throne?" Charlie asked him. They had been looking at each other in that same way as before, the way she didn't understand but knew had to be important.

They both jumped and turned their heads to stare at her. Her father went bright red in the face.

"She said I could," he told her quickly, swallowing, "We're just talking, Charlie. Go back to bed." Missy looked to be holding in laughter of some sort, but when she gave Charlie a nod, the girl just shrugged.

"Okay."

She went back to bed, thought about how adults were weird, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

 

The moment Charlie was gone, the Doctor made sure to give Missy his very worst glare. She just laughed at him.

"Oh come on," she murmured, tracing the lines of his face with a long red nail, "She has no idea what she just saw. Besides, you don't even have my knickers off yet. What she did see was nothing."

He still wasn't pleased in the slightest. She just kissed him roughly to put all thoughts of their daughter from his mind for the time being.

"Did you miss me?" She whispered, guiding his hands underneath the fabric of her skirt and helping him bunch it around her waist.

"No," he snapped, and she just tutted and grabbed his chin in her hand.

"Are you lying?"

He gave her a hopeless look. "Of course I'm lying."

"Of course you are," she agreed, kissing his nose and smiling before rocking against him and making him groan and clutch her thighs tighter. "Now, say my name, Doctor. You know you want to."

"No."

"Say it."

Those bright blue eyes of hers bored into his, so vivid, so adoring, so cruel. They wouldn't allow him to look away. She pressed her body against his and he lost all of his resolve.

"Mistress," he breathed, "My Mistress."

"My Doctor."

When she kissed him again, he gave in to his weakness completely.


	8. A Queen and Her Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy and Charlie get settled in and become closer than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. Uni. *shakes fist*
> 
> But how fantastic has Missy been in Series 9? TMA/TWF are two of my all time favourite episodes. To think I hadn't seen them when I posted the last chapter. What was I without them?? 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Charlie woke up the next morning to be informed by her mother that her father had left but gave her his love.

"But why did he leave so soon, without saying goodbye?" Charlie asked her, frowning.

"Because I told him to," Missy replied from where she was stretched out on her throne and examining her crimson nails, "He's a disruptive influence."

The small girl felt like she could vaguely recall from her younger years her father saying something very similar about her mother, but decided against mentioning it. It seemed like the sort of thing her parents would probably always disagree on.

"Will he come back when he wants to see me again?"

Missy shook her head. "I told him we were leaving."

"But we only just got here."

"You know that, and I know that, but he doesn't. Making this the only place he  _won't_ look for a while. He's a bit thick like that sometimes." She sounded almost fond, even as she grinned smugly. "So now we can do whatever we want here for a good while without him barging in. You know he spent months tracking us down? He'll be so lost looking for us now."

"You like making him look stupid, don't you?" Charlie guessed, frowning again.

Missy cackled. "That I do, kit. That I do."

Her daughter tilted her head curiously. "Are you calling me that now too?"

"I don't see why not," the Time Lady said, shrugging, "You're far too small to warrant more than one syllable. Besides, with the badger thing, it's all sort of motherly, isn't it? I can be motherly. I'm going to take a stab at motherly. Not literally, of course. That would be somewhat counterproductive."

That was when Darla and a few other council members burst into the great hall.

"My queen," one of them said, "Almost the entire population has accepted your rule."

Missy rotated so that she was sitting in the throne properly and able to cross her legs. "Almost isn't quite good enough, dearie."

"We can round up the defiants, Mistress," one of the others put in, and she nodded at him.

"Yeah, good, you do that." When he didn't move, she snapped her fingers at him. "Now is good." He hurried out of the room and almost tripped over his robe doing so. She looked to the others once he was gone. "What's his name?"

Darla cleared her throat nervously. "Nath, Mistress."

"Thank you, Darla darling. Ooh, that works, doesn't it?" Missy clapped her hands together happily, not apparently phased when her amusement wasn't shared by the yellow woman it was based around. "Now, how is everything else going?"

"Surprisingly well, actually," Darla replied, shifting her weight as she got out a chart and started looking over it, "Other than the aforementioned deviants, the citizens seem….pleased with the new turn of events. They think you will be a more formidable defense for Tristine than the guards you killed."

"She is," Charlie said, smiling at her mother with pride, "She's the smartest person ever. She can do anything she wants."

Darla bit her lip and glanced between them. "I don't doubt that."

Missy was busy beaming at her daughter. "Oh, Charlie, you do know how to make your mum feel loved, you know that? Why don't you come sit on the throne they brought for you?"

Charlie happily complied and sat on the golden throne that sat to the right of her mother's. It was almost perfectly sized for her and she grinned from her new perch, which was much comfier than it looked.

"Isn't she the sweetest princess you ever saw?" Missy asked, smiling at her. When there was no answer, she turned a glare onto the council members. "Well, isn't she?"

They all stammered out ardent agreements until she was smiling again. Not long after, a group of around thirty were brought into the great hall by those who had been the guards in training and were now the royal force for Missy's use.

"What are you doing?" She asked the one called Nath, who paled when her frown was turned on him.

"Bringing you the defiants to you, my queen," he said, slowly.

"They're no good to me here," Missy said, staring at him, "I can't kill them in here, I'd get blood all over my throne room. Do you have a dungeon or place of execution?"

"Kill them?" Nath repeated, gulping visibly. "I thought-"

"You thought what?" Missy got to her feet and put her hands on her hips. "I don't have time to deal with them any other way, I've got a lot on my plate. Patience for alternatives or considering mercy - which is such a mundane concept anyway - isn't going to make me a better mother, spending time with my daughter is."

Darla's hands were shaking a little but she clasped them together, probably to hide it. "We'll have them taken to the dungeon at once," she said quietly, and helped direct the protesting but confined defiants back out of the throne room.

"Do I need to come too?" Charlie asked her mother, making a face.

"Of course not, poppet, unless you want to," Missy told her sweetly. Charlie just shook her head. "And of course I don't have to worry about leaving you on your own in here because all these infantiles know that if anything happened to you I would burn their entire planet without blinking."

"Of course," Darla agreed quickly, "But all the same, I'll watch over her myself."

"Will you play with me?"

"...uh, yes, I suppose I could do that."

Missy smiled at them. "Lovely." She discarded her jacket and long skirt, leaving her in her puffy blouse, black leggings, and boots. "Right, I'll be back in a bit."

She strode from the room. Darla still looked rather pale so Charlie decided to distract her since it was probably because she was worried.

"Do you have any favourite games?" Charlie asked her.

"I don't think so," Darla said, her arms folded uncomfortably, "What are yours?"

"I like  _Hide and Seek_ , but it won't work in here," the child answered, looking around and sighing a little bit before perking up again, "But we could play  _Red Light Green Light_!"

"What's that?"

"I stand at this end of the room," Charlie said, pointing, "And you stand at the other end of the room. I say  _green light_ and turn around, and you get to try and come closer to me. But I can turn around and say  _red light_ , and if I catch you moving, you have to go back to the start."

"Alright, simple enough," Darla agreed, shrugging. "Other end of the room for me, you said?"

"Yes."

Charlie waited for her to move to her position before turning around. "Green light!" She could hear Darla's footsteps on the marble floor, quiet but not quiet enough. She whirled around, while Darla was still in mid step. "Red light! Got you. Go back."

Darla made a face and did as she was told. They played this game for a good ten minutes before switching to  _What's The Time Mr Wolf?_ where Charlie insisted on being Mr Wolf, and then twenty minutes after that Charlie taught Darla one of her own creation.

The adult had trouble grasping what the exact point was of the rather abstract game, and got dizzy from all the spinning involved, but Charlie didn't mind. It was rather funny watching her get so disorientated, both mentally and physically.

Finally, Missy returned. She was covered in splatters of blood from head to toe, her hands dripping crimson onto the marble floor and leaving a smear on the door as she opened it.

"Well, that was fun," she said, smiling at them both. "How are you two going?"

"Darla's not very good at my game," Charlie replied, "It's funny. She's good at  _What's The Time Mr Wolf_ , though, even though she'd never played it before."

"Lovely," Missy remarked, only half sounding like she meant it as her gaze turned to Darla, whose face had drained entirely of colour when she came in. "Go on. You're no longer needed here, for the moment. Go get some sleep or whatever it is you people do."

Darla all but ran from the room, her hand over her mouth as if she was going to be sick. Missy watched her go with an amused smirk. Then her attention returned to Charlie.

"Will you play my game with me, Mum?"

Missy crossed the room to crouch in front of her and cup her face with one of her hands. "I'd love nothing more, dearest, but there's a few more things I have to do first. To make this place better. For us."

"Okay."

"But you can come with me for all of that, and then maybe we can play your game after," her mother suggested, making the girl beam at her. Then Missy frowned a little. "Oh, I've gotten blood all over you. Oops." Charlie for the first time noticed the wetness on her left cheek thanks to her mother's hand, but before she could decide how she felt about it, her mother was saying, "Here, I'll fix it."

Missy's finger traced carefully over her skin for about ten seconds.

"There," she remarked, smiling, "Now it looks like one of those cartoon love heart things. Much better."

"Oh, okay."

"You look so pretty," Missy cooed, and Charlie smiled at her, pleased with the compliment and the idea of having a love heart on her cheek, "Do you think we should take a picture? We haven't taken any pictures since you got big, we need to be doing that, at the rate you'll be growing."

"Yes!" Charlie said excitedly. Missy grinned and took her hand to lead them to her throne where she grabbed her handheld device from her coat pocket. Then she sat on the throne with Charlie on her lap.

They posed with Charlie kissing Missy on the cheek, and her turned head meant that her bloody love heart was visible on her cheek, while Missy just grinned at the camera in that satisfied way of hers that scrunched her face up. Of course, her face and neck still had some blood splatters on it too, but Charlie decided that was good because then they matched even if Missy's were much smaller and not love hearts.

The picture came out beautifully.

"Aw, look at us," Missy said, smiling more softly, "Me and my girl."

Charlie cuddled into her and was pleased when Missy's free arm wound around her. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, kit," her mother whispered, kissing the top of her hair, "More than anyone or anything in this whole universe. You never forget that, no matter what anyone might tell you about me."

"I won't."

"Good. Now, come on, we've got some boring peasants to sort out."

* * *

Within a few months, they had settled in comfortably on Tristine. Only a few other small groups had bothered to try rebellion, and when they ended up as dead as the first lot, the population quietened very quickly and accepted their new fate.

Missy had then been able to spend more time teaching her daughter about diplomatic rule and government systems, which she was fairly knowledgeable about even if she made it clear to Charlie that she preferred what were known as a dictatorships or monarchies.

Charlie didn't mind learning about all that stuff, but she far preferred it when her mother gave her puzzles to work out. The Doctor had taken to educating Charlie in culture and language, with  _some_  mathematics, but Missy was intent on getting her mathematics, and science, to a much higher level.

In addition to that, there were the puzzles, designed to make Charlie really and truly  _think_. She loved them.

They'd started off easy, with a Rubix cube from Earth. Once Charlie learned how to do solve one in under a minute, which only took about a month, they moved on to an alien equivalent that had five by five sides as opposed to three. It also had several different settings, including one where some of the squares changed colour after a certain period of time.

This one she was still struggling with, but she was getting better. In the meantime, Missy had given her a new game. A network of circles had been marked out on the floor, and Charlie had to hop into the correct ones based on Missy's riddles, which were given in the variety of languages Charlie knew. Whatever the answer was, Charlie had to take the number of characters in the answer, in whatever language it had been given, and then apply to to the number of circles she had to jump after also getting given a direction to go in.

It was a difficult game, and Missy's riddles were difficult and occasionally impossible because it was something Charlie had no way of knowing. Of course, if this was ever the case, Missy would give her a different riddle upon realising.

A few silent officials stood against the walls of the throne room, watching Charlie tentatively step in the circles with a lack of comprehension for the languages leaving Missy's mouth. It was hard to know what they thought of the whole thing, but Charlie figured it probably didn't matter, since it was Missy that was in charge of everything.

Missy abruptly switched it to mathematics problems, making sure the answer was always something single digit but making the actual problems incredibly complicated. Charlie still found them easier than the riddles, and they got into a rhythm that meant she was soon stepping and changing direction so quickly across the floor that it felt like she was dancing.

"This is fun," Charlie laughed as she spun.

Missy smirked. "Good."

She gave her the next problem and Charlie was quick to keep up her pace, her brain shifting through the numbers easily.

* * *

"Mum, I think it's my birthday tomorrow."

Missy, who had been busy looking out at the capital city from the balcony of the palace that they were on, snapped to look at her.

"Is it really?"

Charlie nodded. "I counted from my last one, with Dad and Clara."

"Well, I bet I can make this birthday better than whatever silly one they gave you," her mother said, her eyes already alight with plans, "How old are you turning, anyway?"

"Six," the girl told her, giggling at the fact that she didn't know.

"Six!" Missy blinked at her, amazed. Her hand came to rest on top of Charlie's head, patting her hair. "That's quite a lot, isn't it? It sounds like a lot, for such a little thing." Her voice went quiet. "I remember when you were so small. Fit in one of my arms. I could carry you and vaporise someone at the same time."

Charlie hugged her around the middle, and Missy's arm curled around her, her hand still absently stroking her daughter's hair. "Did that happen a lot?"

"Yes, sometimes. Couldn't let being a mum distract me from my work, now could I?"

Charlie giggled. "No. Was I really  _really_ small?"

"Oh, dearest, you were so wee that I'm fairly sure at first I was the only person you were able to even remember," Missy replied, "I looked in your eyes and I was your whole world and you were mine." She sighed. "But I had to take you to your dad eventually. Do you know he thought I'd stolen you? From someone else?"

"That's silly. Why did he think that?" Charlie asked, laughing again.

"Well, Time Lords aren't usually ones for having babies." Missy smiled down at her daughter. "You're very special. And your silly old dad thinks so badly of me that he thought me stealing someone else's baby made more sense than us having one together."

"So I was a big surprise."

Missy cackled. "To put it mildly, dear. Your father took it rather well once he believed me. One look and you had him wrapped around your little finger. You still do. We'll be using that at some point. But me...well."

"What?"

"I'm newly female. To say that my realisation that I was going to have a daughter was shocking wouldn't just be putting it mildly, it would be the understatement of the century. I'd only just gotten used to being a woman, let alone a mother."

Charlie thought that all over. "But you were happy?"

Her mother gave her another smile. "Yes, poppet. Once I'd gotten my head around it, I was very, very happy. More so than I'd ever thought I could be." Then she frowned. "But don't you go telling anyone that, not even your father. I'm the Queen of Evil, I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

* * *

For her birthday, some of the people of Tristine put on a huge theatrical show for Charlie that they'd apparently practised relentlessly overnight at Missy's request.

Charlie was utterly delighted and invited all the performers back to the throne room to share in the large birthday cake Missy had also organised. The performers seemed surprised by this, but Charlie couldn't understand why. They had put on a wonderful show. Of course she was going to say thank them and offer them cake!

It was impossible to tell if Missy was annoyed or amused by the whole thing, but Charlie decided she didn't care because it was her birthday and Missy had said herself that it meant she could have whatever she wanted. So Charlie chatted with the performers until they all relaxed around her, and within half an hour they were teaching her some of the dance numbers and moves and laughing with her when her much smaller limbs struggled to get around them.

Missy watched them with a quietness that was rare for her, a small smile on her lips.

Once the cake was almost gone and the performers had left, Charlie was also given a new dress. And more importantly, a glittering tiara.

"I'm not big on crowns, myself," Missy told her as she delicately turned it over in her hands, "But then I've never much needed them. You, on the other hand, will look absolutely darling in this."

"It's so pretty," Charlie said, beaming as Missy placed it on her voluminous warm brown curls.

"Yes, it is, and so are you," Missy agreed, smiling at her, "And no matter where we go, you can take this with you. My wee princess of evil."

"Thank you!" Charlie jumped up from her small throne to hug her mother tightly. Missy just giggled.

"Happy Birthday, kit."


	9. A Different Sort of Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother and daughter leave Tristine behind, and Missy has new ideas about Charlie's education involving an old friend of hers.

They stayed on Tristine for another fourteen months.

Charlie wasn't exactly sure why, because Missy never bothered to explain exactly what her reasons were for most things. But the Time Lady kept her daughter busy with lessons and puzzles, so she didn't much care, and on the day they were to leave, Missy finally informed her daughter of the reason for their extended stay.

By removing the planet's original defence, and replacing it, Missy had been able to get the population of Tristine to sponsor an elite military force that would replace Missy once she was gone. Her part of the deal - she had access to the majority of that military force whenever she came back and requested it. A small army at her command for whenever she liked.

Not that she needed one, as she told Charlie she had reminded the Doctor not long before Charlie had been conceived. But it never hurt to have these sorts of things on standby just in case. One didn't become the master of the universe without forward planning.

On the day of their departure Missy had final things to organise, and Charlie found herself waiting in the throne room with Darla.

After the first few months, Charlie had worked out that Darla didn't like her mother at all. Or at least disapproved of some of the things she did (despite her asking about which it was many times, she had never been given an answer). This hadn't stopped her from eventually forming a bond with Charlie.

Charlie considered Darla her best friend. A few of the guards were her friends too, but Darla was the one she liked the most. Plus, the official had even given her a gift for her seventh birthday two months before. It was a good luck charm in the form of a woven bracelet and Charlie hadn't taken it off her wrist since.

"Are you excited to be leaving?" Darla asked her. Charlie was sitting on her throne, her chin in her hand while her elbow rested on the arm of the golden chair. The Tristine native stood nearby, and had long since lost her formal posture whenever she and the young Gallifreyan were alone.

"I don't know," Charlie answered, frowning, "I like it here. It's weird to think about going somewhere else."

"That's fair enough. You've been here for eighteen months."

"I think I'm excited to go to new places, though. When I was with Dad I went to new places all the time."

Darla knew a bit about her father at this point. "You've grown almost half a foot since you last saw him. Do you think you'll have time to get much taller before you see him again?"

"I don't know," Charlie said again, getting off her throne and taking another look around the throne room that had become like a home to her. "It depends on Mum, I think."

"I suppose it does. But is it possible that you could just ask to see your father? Rather than hope for it?"

"Maybe."

Charlie's hand went to her locket, which she never took off. Inside it was the pulse beacon that the Doctor had given her for her fifth birthday. She knew that she could press it any time that she wanted him to find her. But she also thought it was meant to be for emergencies.

This wasn't an emergency. She just missed him. And Clara. Especially Clara, because it had been longer since she had seen her father's friend. And now she was going to miss Darla. And her guard friends.

"I'm going to miss you, Darla," she said, tilting her head, "Even though you're happy we're leaving because you don't like Mum."

"Charlie," Darla breathed, a disheartened look crossing her face, "I _will_ miss you. But you're right, I don't like your mother. And I've never talked about it because I thought it would be dangerous for me. But you're leaving, and I want to be honest with you."

Charlie wasn't sure what to think, especially when Darla bent over so that their faces were on the same level.

"From what you've told me of your father, he's a good man," she said slowly, "And when you leave this place, I implore you to find him and stay with him."

"But I like being with Mum."

"Charlie…" Darla bit her lip, a concern in her eyes that Charlie had never seen before. "I know you love your mother. And I know she loves you. But you're the only person in the universe she cares about, except for maybe your dad. She hurts and kills people and I know that you know that but I don't think you truly understand the gravity of what that means."

"I understand," Charlie said, "She's evil."

Darla blinked, shocked. "Well, yes. She is. So don't you see that you need to be with your dad, who is good?"

"That doesn't matter," Charlie told her, "Evil just means that some of the things she does are things some people don't think are good. Dad's not better. He's just different."

"No, Charlie, that's what she's told you," Darla said with an adamant shake of her head, "But it's not true. Some things should never be done, no matter what, because everyone thinks they're bad. Killing and hurting people, that's _never_ okay, Charlie, and she does it all the time. And it would break my heart if you started doing those things too because she's brainwashed you into thinking that they're not wrong."

Charlie frowned, deeply. "I'm confused," she whispered.

Darla's eyes filled with tears. "I imagine you are." Voices could be heard outside the throne room. "Look, don't tell her I said any of this. But don't believe everything she tells you." She pulled Charlie into a hug. "I'll miss you, Princess."

"I'll miss you too."

Missy came into the throne room then, with some of the other officials.

"Ah, goodbyes, is it?"

Darla released Charlie, a little self-consciously, and smoothed her robes. "Yes, my queen. I was telling the princess how I wish the best for her."

"How sweet," Missy said, sounding as if she thought it was anything but. "Well, we must be going now. We'll be back if I ever need that army. You've all been...adequate, I suppose. Come on, Charlie."

Charlie smiled at Darla and made to follow her mother, but stopped to hold up the bracelet that had been Darla's gift, waving goodbye.

Darla waved back, with a torn sort of melancholy in her eyes that Charlie only partially understood. And then Charlie was inside the TARDIS and they were leaving Tristine behind, and it was just her and her mother again.

* * *

Missy took Charlie to see the wonders of the universe after that. There were pretty sights, like waterfalls and sunsets and dogs with no noses and great flying creatures that soared through strange skies. They also saw cities burn and stars die and suns explode.

"That cloud of dust there, that was a planet called Fera," Missy said as they sat watching a collapsing galaxy, their legs dangling out the TARDIS doors and into space. "They had the most amazing sweets there, could get you on a sugar high like nothing else, which is probably why all the people that lived there were so hyperactive all the time."

"But all those people are dead now. And so are their sweets," Charlie said, frowning at the teal dust drifting towards the black hole.

"Well, their sweets were never alive, poppet," Missy corrected, "But yes."

Charlie leaned her head on the door frame. "That's sad. Why do you show me sad things? I don't like sad things."

Missy eyed her with surprise. "I...never thought you'd think it was sad. I never have."

"Why not?"

"Everything has to end sometime. It's the way of the universe." Her thoughtful look shifted to a smile. "Except you and me, of course. We'll rule everything, forever and ever and ever." Her arm curled around Charlie's shoulder and pulled her close. "I promise."

"If we have a time machine, then we can go to Fera and have their sweets," Charlie considered.

"Yes, we can. Would you like to?"

"Yes please. I like alive things more than dead things."

Missy got to her feet and pulled Charlie up by the hands. "Of course you do, you're my daughter. Death is for other people. Not us. Dead is so final and dull." Then she giggled. "Except for, of course, when it isn't."

* * *

It wasn't long before three months had passed since they had left Tristine. Three months filled with random outings for things like sweets or new clothes, and excursions to places of historical interest. The word boredom wasn't one Charlie ever got the chance to understand. There was one thing her mother wasn't - still.

When Missy threw some clothes at her and told her to get dressed, Charlie complied. It was a warm ensemble, with mittens and boots. Missy had meanwhile donned another layer in the form of a dark fur coat.

They left the TARDIS to find it had taken the form of a carriage. Missy stepped down onto the snow covered street and helped Charlie down.

"Where are we, Mum?"

"Russia, dear. You can speak Russian, correct?"

" _Quite_ well, but it's been a long time since I was learning and I didn't have it perfect."

"Well, this is a chance to practice," Missy said in Russian, "I've turned the translator circuits off for this trip."

"So are we here for me to get better at Russian?" Charlie asked, switching to Russian quickly enough but needing a fair amount of concentration.

"Don't be silly, that's just a bonus. Now, come on, and try not to fall over in the snow."

She took Charlie by the hand and they began to make their way down the bustling street. Having not been to Russia since her time with her father and Clara, Charlie was excited to be back. It didn't take her long to work out that they were in St Petersburg, which had always been her favourite place to visit in Russia, so that lifted her mood even more.

"Where are we going?" Charlie asked.

"The only logical place to begin your training. Well, your physical training that is."

A beautiful building with white columns at the entrance was at the end of the street, and something about its presence told Charlie that it was their destination. It definitely wasn't somewhere she had visited before.

"The Vaganova Academy of Russian Ballet," Missy told her as they climbed the steps, "Though it won't be called that for some time. Currently it's just the Imperial Ballet School. Not that it matters."

"Am I here to learn ballet?"

"No, they have a shooting gallery in the basement - of _course_ you're here to learn ballet."

"Why?"

Missy held the door open for her daughter to go past her into the building. "Killing is all about finesse, dear. If you're going to become as formidable as I intend, you need to get some. Where better than here?"

Charlie quietly thought about what Darla had told her before they left Tristine. That killing wasn't something that only some people thought was wrong, that it was _always_ wrong. But she didn't know if that was true, and part of her didn't want to ask her mother.

But why? She wasn't afraid of her mother, and why would her mother lie to her? Why should she think she ever had?

"Tell Fokine that his old friend Koschei is here to see him," Missy said to an attendant of the grand hall. There was enough authority in her tongue to get the boy rushing off out of sight. Missy looked down at her daughter. "You know, it's funny, this country has an old legend about a Koschei the Deathless, appearing in all sorts of their fairytales as a villain who is nearly impossible to kill. I think a few of my visits here in past regenerations might have left a bit of an impression."

"You became a fairytale character?" Charlie wondered, awed by the thought.

"Their memories of me did, apparently. Though in most stories they have me stealing away fair maidens. As if I had interest in such things." Missy snorted with distaste. "Still, I'm not sure what I expected from such nanobrains."

A young man with a very fine upturned moustache strode into the entrance hall, a look of excitement and anticipation on his face.

"Over here, Mikhail," Missy greeted, and when he turned around she just gave him a coy smile. His expression turned to one of confusion. "What's wrong? Don't you recognise me?"

"Is it truly you?" He asked, gaping as he came closer.

"You haven't reacted like this since the very first time I showed up here with a new face," she said, lifting an eyebrow, "Is there a problem with this one?"

He coughed nervously. "Of course not. But you're a-"

"Woman, yes. A delightful surprise. I should have done it much sooner, you know, it's ever such fun." When he relaxed some, apparently accepting her identity, she smiled at him. "Now, down to business. This is Charlotte."

Mikhail's dark eyes moved to take in the small child whose hand she was holding onto, and they widened. "I was about to inquire as to her identity, but a second glance made the answer rather obvious. But my friend, if it has only been eight months since I saw you last, how can you be the mother of a child this age?"

"Time travel," she said simply, frowning at him, "I'm _sure_ I mentioned it to you, dear."

"I perhaps recall it, but I thought you were having one of your odd jokes with me," he replied uneasily. "Evidently that was not the case."

"No. Now, is there somewhere more private we can talk?"

"Of course! My office. Follow me, Koschei." They began to walk through the corridors of the building, past a few other adults and a couple of girls in tutus. "It _is_ good to see you again, you know," Mikhail said as they walked. Once in his office, he sat down at his desk and Missy settled herself into a chair. Charlie remained standing.

"So am I to assume that you wish for me to take on your daughter here, Koschei?"

"Yes and no," Missy replied, "I wish for you to teach her. I have no interest, however, in her learning with the other children. They'd only slow her progress. I require efficient private teaching."

Mikhail's lips pursed. "My friend, I will do everything I can to accommodate you, but you must understand that I'm incredibly busy with the other classes and my own choreography work-"

Missy cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, did I ask about that? Do I look like I care?"

"Well-"

"All you have to do is come with us back to our ship, our time machine, and I can steal you away for however long is necessary for Charlie to reach a satisfactory level. You'll be back before you've been gone an hour."

His eyes widened. "Truly? You could accomplish such a thing?"

"What?" Missy gave him a slow, dangerous smirk. "Don't you trust me?"

Mikhail shifted uncomfortably under her unnerving gaze and tugged on his moustache. "Not when you look at me like _that_."

"Good," she purred, "Smart boy."

"I'm just not sure I can risk being absent on something as simple as your word."

"But I'm proof, you even said," Charlie interrupted.

The two adults looked at her with vague surprise. Missy had schooled Charlie long ago about staying quiet when 'mummy was talking', and so Charlie had been standing there quietly enough before that moment. But Missy had also told her the importance of speaking up if she felt she _could_ offer something important.

Mikhail coughed. "Yes, well-"

"It's only been eight months since you saw Mum, and I'm nearly seven and a half years old. So she _must_ have a time machine."

"Well, there _is_ no denying that you are her child, the resemblance is too strong."

Missy clapped her hands. "Good. So, are you coming then?"

He frowned. "I didn't say that."

The Time Lady sat up in her chair, and Charlie recognised the deceiving casual manner that meant she was about to make a threat in a tone of voice that most people could never pull off.

"I should probably make myself clearer, Mikhail dear," she said pleasantly, glancing down at her red nails, "Either you come with me now, or I'll take you by force. It doesn't bother me which, but having to hold a weapon to your back the whole way to the TARDIS would be tedious and then I wouldn't be able to hold Charlie's hand when we cross the street and that's just bad parenting."

Mikhail gulped. "Well, in that case, I'd be absolutely delighted to help."

Missy smiled at him. "That's what I thought." She got up from her chair. "Grab anything you need, and let's go. My TARDIS can construct a studio for you to work in."

* * *

After getting Mikhail - or as Charlie had been instructed to call him, Master Fokine - accustomed to the TARDIS, Missy whipped up the specs for a studio and it was done within a few hours. It took a while to teach the early 20th century Russian man about the electronic sound system, but he was rather delighted with it once he understood it.

"I'm not sure that it's _quite_ a replacement for the real thing," he remarked, "But it'll do very nicely."

And so Charlie's lessons began.

Missy watched from the edge of the room while Charlie - now clad in acceptable dance attire and with her hair up in a bun for the first time in her life - stood in the center and listened raptly to what Master Fokine was telling her. He was impressed to find that her turnout was already quite good, and moved straight onto the proper posture and how to apply it to demi-pliés.

"Standing like this, with your heels together and feet turned out, and arms curved in front of you, is first position," Fokine explained, adjusting her right arm to make give it a rounder shape to match her left one. "Straight your back a little more."

Charlie did, and got a nod for her efforts. After that they moved onto second position, which was essentially just spreading her arms and feet. Easy enough.

"For third position, bring your right foot in front of your left so that the right heel is at the midpoint of your left foot," Fokine continued, "And bring your right arm back in to where it was for first position while keeping your left one extended as it was for second."

After thinking through those instructions, Charlie glanced down to check her foot was moving to the right place and then brought her arm back in.

Fokine smiled. "Yes. Lovely. Now for fourth, slide your right foot forward and a bit to the left so that it is in front of your other, and bring your right arm up above your head."

Charlie did this, but he rushed to correct her arm.

"You must keep your arm soft and curved at all times unless I tell you otherwise," he told her, gently shaping it. "And your hands must look delicate. Like this." He showed her with his own, his index finger not quite in line with the other three, the position easy but deliberate and important.

She matched it and he nodded again.

"For fifth, bring your foot back in so that it is right in front of your back one. And lift your left arm so that it is above your head as your right is."

Once she had done it, he smiled widely.

"Wonderful. You learn quickly."

"Thank you, Master Fokine," she said with a politeness she had learned from Clara a long time ago that spending time with Darla had reinforced.

* * *

A routine was established quite quickly. Missy did not have the patience to observe their lessons, and went off outside of the TARDIS to do things that Fokine and Charlie could barely guess but occasionally speculated about. But she would usually return by evening - or rather, what was relatively evening in terms of Fokine's sleep cycle - and the three of them would dine together. Then, while Fokine slept, Missy continued Charlie's lessons in mathematics and science. The languages were put aside for now because they were still speaking Russian whenever Fokine was around and that was practice enough.

Charlie soon found that she rather liked ballet. As the days turned into weeks, she could feel muscles forming in her legs and arms that she hadn't had before.

Not to mention, the dancing made her feel graceful and pretty, much more so than being treated like a princess on Tristine had. She could see why her mother felt it was important for her to learn - Missy herself already possessed a kind of grace Charlie wasn't sure was even possible to learn. That didn't mean she couldn't try, though.

Also, for someone who had near enough been kidnapped (albeit by a friend), Master Fokine had taken to life on the TARDIS surprisingly well. He told Charlie stories over their dinners of how he had become friends with her mother back when she had been male and usually sporting facial hair far superior to his own. Some of the stories were incredibly amusing and had Charlie laughing and Missy smirking into her wine glass.

It helped their lessons and relationship in general that he had a very good sense of humour. Charlie got the idea it wasn't something any of his other students would have seen much of, but because their arrangement was less official than his work at the Imperial Ballet School, he was a little more relaxed and allowed occasional conversation during their lessons.

"I want to go somewhere," Charlie told Fokine over her shoulder while she was at the barre trying out grand-pliés. It had been two months since his arrival on the TARDIS and the beginning of her lessons.

"Facing forward," he said firmly. She sighed and looked straight ahead. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I haven't left the TARDIS since you got here. And I'm not bored, not really, because ballet is interesting and fun. And challenging in a very different way to what Mum teaches me. But I like visiting places too."

"What sorts of places? France?"

Charlie giggled as she dipped into another grand-plié, her heels coming up off the floor while she tried to keep her back straight and butt down. "Yes, sir, but that's not what I was thinking of."

When Missy returned that evening, Charlie asked if the three of them could go somewhere to get ice cream or for a picnic.

"Charlie dear, I'm the Queen of Evil," she told her daughter with a sigh, "Picnics aren't exactly in my rapport. Why would I want to sit on a musty old blanket with a basket of food under a tree somewhere when I could dine on fine cuisine anywhere I choose?"

Charlie frowned. "Then why do you take me out for ice cream and not to fancy dessert parlors?"

Missy rolled her eyes. "That's entirely different, dear, the whole _point_ of ice cream is for it to be enjoyed outside in hot weather."

"I would have to disagree," Mikhail said, chuckling, "I happen to be rather fond of the dessert myself, and my country doesn't truly know the meaning of hot weather."

"Well exactly, you don't even know what you're missing." Missy sighed. "Alright then, I _suppose_ as your friend I'll have to educate you, and my daughter _did_ ask rather nicely."

So that was how the Queen of Evil, her daughter, and an early 20th century twenty-six year old Russian ballet master with a very fine moustache, ended up walking along a beach on the Gold Coast of Australia in the year 2006 with double scoop ice creams.

Missy looked almost like a normal human with her hair down and her usual attire discarded for a plum sundress, but Charlie couldn't keep in her giggles at seeing Master Fokine in shorts (or at how he was still sweating immensely from the heat he was so unaccustomed to).

All in all, Charlie thought as she licked at her orange chocolate chip waffle cone, it had been a _very_ enjoyable day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it makes sense that Missy would want her kid to be elegant and graceful, and obviously it's a precursor to making sure she knows how to fight and kill. Plus the idea of them hanging out with a Russian ballet master was pretty funny and I couldn't pass it up.
> 
> Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!
> 
> (The Doctor and Clara will make an appearance soon. Sorry if you're missing them.)


	10. Toe In The Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother and daughter trip goes awry and has some interesting consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apparently forgot to update the story as well as on ff.net. Oops! 
> 
> (Be happy to know that as a result of this delay you can expect a quick update because the next chapter is already finished.)

Charlie liked Master Fokine. She really did. He was the only person she had any contact with at the moment who wasn't her mother, which meant he was probably her best friend.

But it was getting to the point where she couldn't stand his stupid moustache.

At first she had liked it a lot and thought it had given him a very distinguished sort of look. But whenever she made a mistake in her lessons, he would tug on the ends of it. Over seven months into her lessons, it had gotten tiresome.

Her eighth birthday had been the week before. The three of them had thrown a grand party on the gardens of Asgard, but been forced to cut it short to narrowly avoid a run-in with a younger version of Charlie's father and a woman with hair that put Charlie's curls to shame.

Missy had been vaguely disgruntled for the rest of the day, but wouldn't say why. Charlie was fairly sure she was annoyed about the woman with the big hair having the Doctor's attention, but couldn't really understand why that was. Her dad had a lot of friends, after all. What made this particular one different?

"Charlotte!" Master Fokine said, frowning at her. "Pay attention. A dancer never loses focus."

"I'm not a dancer, I'm just learning to dance, they're not the same thing," she told him.

"So long as you are training under me, you are a dancer. Now, back straight, chin up, eyes focused, feet turned out. And, pirouette!"

Charlie spun on the spot, keeping in mind everything she had to. If nothing else, the ballet training had certainly taught her how to organise her thoughts and concentrate on many things at once. It was surely something that would come in handy later in her life.

After another few hours, she was free to go. She found Missy in the console room, in her blouse and leggings, doing some repairs underneath the console.

"How much longer do I have to learn ballet?"

"Until Master Fokine and I are satisfied."

"How long will that be?"

"How should I know? You want to be done sooner, work harder."

Charlie huffed and sat down on the floor near her mother's legs, pulling her hair out of the ballet bun and shaking her curls loose. "His moustache is silly. He touches it whenever I muck up. It's annoying."

Missy sniggered. "Then I suppose at least you know when you're getting it right."

"I know anyway if I'm getting it right!" Charlie said irritably. "I'm not _stupid_."

Missy slid out from under the console and sat up, brushing stray curls from her face before looking at her daughter. "Of course you're not, kit. There will never be a time in your life where _that_ is true."

"What language is it, that you speak between you?" Fokine asked in Russian, and they turned to see him in the doorway. They spoke in Gallifreyan when alone, of course, as it was a complicated language with many tenses that Charlie had yet to learn and practice.

"What concern of it is yours?" Missy replied in Russian, arching an eyebrow at him. He frowned and she ignored him as she got to her feet. "Come on, Charlie dear, it's time for your maths lessons."

* * *

The next week Charlie was started on pointe shoes, which was a new challenge that she immediately took to. Fokine emphasised her not pushing herself too hard, as her foot was still in developing stages and could probably suffer damage even if she was less breakable than any other child he'd taught before.

Given how he would leave her alone for long periods of time to practice, Charlie realised that she could play whatever music she wanted, not just his classical tracks.

That was, a few months after her starting her work on point, Master Fokine walked in on her practising her leaps to a girl band cover of _The Pretender_. His gasp made her turn around, and the look of bewilderment on his face made her burst into giggles. It occurred to her that he'd probably never heard rock music in his life.

"What is...this noise?" He managed to ask.

"Rock music," she said, "I think it gets invented a bit less than a hundred years after your time."

"It's horrific. And loud."

"Orchestras are loud," she pointed out, but changed the song to a song called _Call Me Maybe_ which she had found the other day and thought was funny. "This is pop music, I think."

"Does your mother let you listen to this?"

Charlie shrugged. "I just go exploring on the TARDIS servers. There's music from every planet, but my dad likes Earth, so I thought I'd try out that stuff first. Mum likes their music too, I think."

"Well, I'd prefer my _classical_ or _romantic_ tracks," he sniffed.

"That's okay." She put the Tchaikovsky back on. "But I've started choreographing something for myself and it's to my music, not yours."

"When it's finished, then I'll bear it, but not before," Fokine told her, "Now back to the barre."

* * *

It took a few months for her to finish choreographing her dance, but once it was done she performed it for her mother and Master Fokine. It was definitely the first and last time he would watch a ballerina dance a routine to _She's A Rebel_ by Green Day, and it was all Charlie could do to not burst into giggles partway through at his rather pained expression.

When it was done, Missy burst into applause, and Fokine gave a few polite claps.

"Well, you certainly don't have a future as a choreographer," he said slowly, "But to your credit, you actually managed to fit the steps to the song and that's no small accomplishment."

Charlie grinned.

"But please, never do anything like this again."

She laughed and shook her head. She'd had _plenty_ of fun with this project, but there was absolutely no desire in her to repeat the process.

"Do you think perhaps a day trip is in order, Koschei?" Fokine asked Missy. "As a reward, before I take start her on the next level of lessons. After a year of which I believe she'll have progressed to the level you wish for her."

"Where would you like to go, Charlie?"

"A new planet!"

"Go on, get changed then."

Charlie ran off to get out of her leotard and ballet slippers so that she could pull on a blue sundress and her solid black boots. When she returned to the console room, Fokine was informing Missy that he had no interest in traipsing around planets that weren't his own and was going to stay behind.

"Suit yourself," the Time Lady said, shrugging, "Come on, Charlie. We're going to see a riot."

She took Charlie's hand and they left the TARDIS, which had taken the form of a pillar. They were in a crowd filled with various aliens - some humanoid, some not. There was a lot of shouting.

"This planet doesn't have a name, not officially, but most will come to know it as Tempest," Missy explained, having to raise her voice over the noise of the crowd, "Because it never knows peace. Naturally it's one of my favourite places in the universe. Come on, we'll find a better spot to watch. Normally I might join in but I'd rather not lose you in the crowd. You're small yet."

They made their way through the crowd - which seemed to be blocking a main street - and managed to come out into an alley.

"Why are they rioting?"

"Their king is taxing them so badly that they can't afford food," Missy said, sounding amused, "This way." They walked through more streets until they came to a very tall building. "Here we go, the clock tower. Best view in the whole city."

She used her laser screwdriver to break the lock, and they ascended the spiral steps until they came to the balcony at the top that put them in front of the huge clock face.

"Ooh, look at all this," Missy remarked, eyeing the boxes at their feet. She lifted the top of one with the tip of her boot and smirked when she saw explosives. "Someone's been naughty."

Charlie had no interest in the boxes and instead rushed to the balcony, clutching the stone barrier and looking out at the crowd below that was marching towards the palace. "It is a good view," she said, "What are they going to do?"

"Break into the palace and assassinate the king, probably," Missy replied, shrugging as she came to stand next to her, "That's usually the process."

"Assassinate means kill, right?"

"Yes, but for political reasons."

"Okay."

"Look at them all," her mother whispered, putting her arm around her, "They think they can make a difference. As if their parents hadn't done the same thing before them, and their grandparents before that. They can't _change_ anything. But they're desperate. And desperate killers are by far the funniest. It's classic. All that simpering _you've made me do this_ and _I have to_ nonsense." She spoke in a girlish screech for her imitations.

Before Charlie could reply, an explosion erupted before their eyes - one of the buildings the crowd was moving past. The sound boomed through the air and Charlie's eyes widened. A second later screams and yells could be heard.

"I wonder which side set that one off," Missy mused. Her eyes shut. "I love the sound of screaming in the afternoon. Don't you, kit?"

"I don't know. I don't know if I like it when people are hurt."

"Don't be silly, it doesn't matter if they're stupid little apes like these people," her mother said, without opening her eyes, "Especially when they're getting hurt because of their own stupidity. There's no point feeling sorry for someone if what's happening to them is their own fault and they're not worth your sympathy to begin with."

"Oh," Charlie said, frowning.

"Turn around slowly, and put your hands up."

The unfamiliar voice made Charlie jump, and she glanced over her shoulder to see three men armed with guns standing by the stairs.

" _Do as they say for now, kit,"_ Missy murmured in Gallifreyan. They turned around.

"Are you a royal spy?" The one in the middle of the three asked Missy. "How did you get in here?"

"No, I'm not a royal spy," she said boredly, before smirking at them, "But I'm ever so good with locks, me. And my daughter so desperately wanted to see the city, and I knew this was the best spot by far-"

"Of course she's a royal spy," one of the other men said, "Look at her, she reeks of aristocracy even if her kid doesn't."

"Agreed."

"You can't _smell_ aristocracy, that's silly," Charlie told them, frowning.

"I take that last bit back."

"Move," the first speaker, a man with olive skin and greasy hair said, "Down the stairs, and no funny business."

"Who, me?" Missy said, blinking at them innocently as she came forward, one of her hands gripping Charlie's. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The one who had spoken of her reeking of aristocracy had moved to the stairs first, with the apparent intention of going down sideways so that his gun could be trained on her at all times.

"Get a move on, Wilk," one of his comrades said.

In the second Wilk lifted his foot to find the step below him, Missy nonchalantly reached out with her free hand and shoved him hard. He toppled over, falling down the long stairwell with a cry and many thuds until there was a crack, and then silence.

The remaining two men advanced on Missy, one pressing a gun into her ribs and the other to her cheek.

"Sorry, boys, I may be guilty of a teeny fib," she said, giggling, "That _was_ quite funny."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you," the leader seethed.

"Well, you'll never know if I've told anyone at the palace about your secret lot of explosives, for a start," she said in a girlish sing-song voice as she shrugged and examined her nails.

He frowned, and his gaze fell on Charlie, who instinctively took a step behind Missy. "Alright, give me a good reason why I shouldn't shoot _her_."

"Hang on, Jax, I'm not about shooting little girls-"

"Shut it, Haren," Jax snapped, not looking away from Missy. "Well?"

She smiled at him with the sweetness that Charlie had come to know as a sign that they should be running in the opposite direction. "Because if you harm one hair on her head, you'll find yourself strung up from this very tower by your own organs."

To his credit, Jax's only indication of any fear was a slow swallow. Next to him, Haren had visibly shivered at the cold glint in Missy's eye.

"She'll still be dead," Jax said after a brief pause, grabbing Charlie by the shoulder and moving his gun to sit at the base of her neck, "So I suggest you cooperate."

"Fine," Missy said flatly, "I'll be good. For now." She looked at her daughter and smiled. "You alright, Charlie dear?" Charlie just nodded. She didn't like the feeling of the cold metal that bled through her hair to her skin.

They were marched down the stairs of the clock tower. At the very bottom was Wilk's body, sprawled out on an unnatural angle and with a small pool of blood around the head. Missy smiled and made a big show of delicately stepping over it. Jax forced Charlie to walk around. They were taken back out into the hot sunlight and through even more side streets, heading towards the palace before they finally reached a worse-for-wear house.

Inside was a group of five people dressed in similarly non-descript clothing to Jax and Haren.

One of the two women jumped up immediately from the crate she had been sitting on, but stopped when her eyes fixed on Jax and Charlie.

"Do you want to explain what the hell is going on?" She asked, crossing her arms. "Since when do we put guns on kids?"

"See, we women know that it's just bad manners," Missy tutted. "You could stand to learn from her, Jaxy-boy." Her hands were clasped behind her back primly as she surveyed the room and its occupants. "Not exactly the most impressive secret hideout, is it? I mean, for people who have as many explosives stashed in the clock tower as you do."

"She's a royal spy, Gia," Haren explained, "We found them in the clock tower."

"I see," Gia said, frowning, "I still don't see the need for the girl to be threatened."

"She killed Wilk," Jax said, nodding in Missy's direction. The Time Lady wasn't even paying attention to him, she was examining the ceiling. "The girl's my insurance."

"Well now that you're here, tie her up, so we can not have a gun pointed at a child's head," Gia told him, scowling.

"You're not the one that gives the orders around here, Gia."

"I am until you come up with some better ones. Haren, Mags, tie her up." The other woman and Haren hurried to follow her orders, and Jax caught Missy's eye and tightened his grip on Charlie to make his point.

Missy's expression was entirely neutral and she didn't resist at all, but her gaze never left Charlie's. "You stay there, kit, nice and easy," she said, "He knows that if you get hurt I'll paint this whole room red."

Once Missy was restrained - bound to a column at the side of the room - Jax released Charlie and Gia was quick to guide her away from him. But he followed, and after telling the other rebels to retrieve the explosives from the clock tower just to be safe and watching them leave, he grabbed Gia by the arm.

"Do _not_ undermine me again," he hissed into her ear, quietly enough that Charlie was fairly sure she was the only other one who could hear, "Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean you get more than one free pass for insolence."

Charlie's eyes fixed on where his fingers were gripping Gia's arm so tightly that the dark skinned woman was wincing.

"You're hurting her," the girl told him with a frown. "If she's your girlfriend, you shouldn't do that." He glowered at her, but stalked off, letting Gia take Charlie to one of the crates and sit both of them down.

"Is she your mother?" She asked the eight year old.

Charlie nodded. "Are you going to hurt her?"

Gia thought hard before answering. "Was she doing anything that means we might want to? Why were you in the clock tower?"

"She wanted me to see the riot," Charlie told her honestly, thinking it was silly that the truth would get them out of the situation but they weren't being believed, "We don't care about the explosives, and we didn't know they were there until we see them."

"You have your kid well trained," Jax told Missy, his voice sour.

"Or she's just telling the truth," Gia said sharply.

" _Charlie, I want you to look like I'm reassuring you, that typical motherly crap,"_ Missy said to her daughter in Gallifreyan, _"Now, the plan is simple enough-"_

"What are you saying to her?" Jax demanded, immediately pointing his gun back at Missy.

"She was telling me that she loves me," Charlie said, because that seemed like the 'typical motherly crap' Missy had been meaning, and tried to look as young and innocent as possible. "What else would she say?" Jax's expression made it plain that he was unsure of whether she was telling the truth. Which was fair enough given that she _was_ lying to him.

"Nothing, of course that's what she was saying," Gia said, rubbing her back gently, unaware of how Missy was holding back a scowl at her even daring to touch her.

All the same, Jax was suspicious enough that Missy didn't try talking to Charlie again. Instead she just sighed very loudly.

"You know, there really is no point to all this," she told Jax. "I couldn't give a Viyran's petulant ass about what anyone on this planet does about anything, ever. I just wanted a peek of the fireworks."

"Fireworks?"

"She means the riot," Charlie said, "She likes watching them."

"Why?" Jax asked, eyes narrowed.

Missy lifted an eyebrow. "Because they're funny, why else?"

"You think people being so desperate as to need to resort to violence is funny?" He was so shocked that it was hard to tell how else he felt about it, but there was something in his eyes that Charlie didn't like.

Missy however, just laughed. "Of course. All you tiny, stupid little people, you're all the same, on every planet, in every galaxy. It's hilarious."

"If you enjoy it so much, maybe you'd like to be included," Jax snapped, marching up to the pole she was tied to and getting his gun back out so that he could press the barrel to the underside of her chin.

Missy, instead of looking scared, had a delighted glint in her eye. "Oooh," she purred, "Look who's playing with the big boys now."

"Tell me again that you think the suffering here is funny," he said, his voice dangerously low as he dug the gun barrel harder into her skin.

Missy held his gaze, and just leaned forward a little, Her voice was a deliberate, dramatic whisper. "Hysterical."

"I'm going to make your death slow," Jax seethed, "But first, I'm going to kill your daughter, to see if you still find our desperation so funny." Concerned by his threats, Charlie became aware of the gun at Gia's hip, and quietly grabbed it before jumping off the crate and pointing it Gia's chest.

"Let her go," she said, with as much strength as she could, the way she could remember her dad saying it from years before, usually about herself or Clara.

Jax glanced over his shoulder and visibly started. "You don't know what you're doing, you stupid little girl."

"Yes I do. I'm making a deal. Don't shoot my mum, and I won't shoot your girlfriend."

"You wouldn't," he said, and Charlie frowned at him.

"How do you know? You don't know anything about me."

While he blinked at her with bewilderment, Missy cackled. "That's my girl."

But Jax's expression only took a second to turn dark. His gun arm moved with a blur of speed and there were two cries of protest at the same moment as the gunshot. Charlie didn't get much chance to process what was going on because she'd been shoved to the ground.

When she looked up, Missy looked pleasantly bemused, and Jax's face had turned ashen.

Next to Charlie, Gia let out a groan and dropped to her knees as blood blossomed out over her shirt. Jax ran to her, cradling her in his arms and pushing her hair out of her face.

"Why did you do that?" He asked with dismay, tears filling the corners of his eyes. "Why would you do something so stupid?"

"You tried to kill a child," she gasped, "I couldn't let you. When did you become the kind of person who would do that?"

"I was scared for you-"

"I don't care."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Please forgive me."

He never got an answer. Gia had stilled, her still open eyes now blank. Charlie had never seen someone die before, but she was fairly sure that now she had.

When she finally looked away from the dead rebel and the crying one, she saw that her mother was mouthing 'get the gun' at her. Jax had dropped it on the floor when he'd knelt with Gia. Charlie silently moved to pick it up and then stepped back. Now that she had a gun in each hand, she wasn't sure she liked the weight of them. The one she had just acquired, after all, had just killed a person who had shown her kindness. It made her stomach feel funny, in an unpleasant way.

Still, now they had their way out.

"Untie my mum," Charlie said to Jax, who looked up with fury in his eyes only to falter at the sight of both of the guns in her hands.

"Damn both of you to hell," he cursed.

She paid his words no mind. "Untie my mum," she said again, and lifted one of the guns at him. "Now."

Jax got to his feet and approached Missy, reluctantly untying her from the pole. The moment her hands were free, she spun him around so that it was his spine against the rigid metal.

Within seconds his hands were tied behind the pole and he'd been pushed onto his knees.

"Come here, Charlie," Missy said, and Charlie obediently approached them. "Good. Now, kill him."

Charlie and Jax both stared at her.

"Why? We can leave now, he's tied up," Charlie said, wondering if maybe somehow her mother hadn't realised that.

"Because he tried to kill you," Missy said simply, "And me, and he actually _did_ kill his girlfriend. If he'd had his way, you'd be dead right now." Then she smiled, and tilted her head pensively as her fingers brushed over Jax's crown of greasy hair. "Besides, he's just got that sort of face, don't you think?"

Charlie didn't know how to respond. The guns felt heavier than ever. "I don't know. I don't think I want to kill him."

"Why not?" Missy asked, clicking her tongue with annoyance.

"Killing is what you do, not me."

"Yes, but we all have to start somewhere," her mother said, her expression softening a little, "Come on, I'll help you, it's easy." She guided Charlie to stand right in front of Jax. "Now, just lift the gun to point at him like you were doing before."

Charlie did as she was told but still wasn't sure about the whole thing. "Can't this wait until I'm older?"

"Nonsense, your father committed his first murder when he was the same age you are now," Missy told her, making Charlie look at her over her shoulder with great surprise.

"I thought Dad doesn't kill people. He thinks it's bad."

"He's a hypocrite, he kills people all the time, just like me - only _he_ feels bad about it," Missy said with a roll of her eyes, before leaning down so that her arm could shadow Charlie's and she could whisper in her ear, "But when we were little boys, only eight years old, there was another boy. One called Torvic. He hated us, tormented us. And one day we were playing by the river, and he came along, and held me under. I was drowning. I would have died. But your father, he took a rock in his little hand and he bashed in that horrid boy's skull until the river ran dark with blood. He killed someone because that someone was going to kill me. And now you're going to do the same."

"But you're safe now," Charlie said slowly, "It's not the same."

"Nothing ever is, but he's still a worm not fit to be under my boot, so _kill him_."

Charlie frowned and looked into Jax's eyes. They were a tempest of fear, resignation, and a sadness that Charlie supposed was grief for his dead girlfriend.

She thought it all over. What she knew about killing, how she felt about it or didn't know how to feel about it. About the explosives that would probably hurt people on Jax's instruction. How he had tried to kill her and been intending to kill her mother. How apparently even her father, who had told her killing wasn't good, had killed someone when he was the same age.

Missy's hand was reaching to cover hers where it held the gun, but Charlie had already made up her mind.

She pulled the trigger.

The recoil that hit her hard and made the gun jerk as she fired it. She'd at the last second aimed for his leg, but the recoil meant that the bullet hit Jax in the upper right side of his abdomen. It wasn't fatal, but the close range of the shot meant there was still a fair mess.

Charlie dropped both guns to wipe the small splatter of blood from her cheek - not because its presence bothered her, but because she knew it might bother Master Fokine when they got back to the TARDIS and it was easier to get rid of it now.

Jax had let out a loud yell upon being shot, and was now gasping as he stared at his heavily bleeding wound.

"That's for trying to kill me and my mum," Charlie told him, considering that the wound she'd inflicted was considerably worse than the one she'd intended, and that if left could prove to still be fatal. She couldn't be sure whether that bothered her or not. He really _had_ been very horrible to them.

"Mm, now that just won't do," Missy said mildly, frowning as well as she regarded him, "Still, easily fixed."

She stepped in past Charlie and took Jax's head in her hands, almost gently. Then, with a blank expression on her face, she jerked her hands so that there was a _snap_ sound, and Jax went limp.

"He might have died anyway," Charlie said to her, after realising that she'd just killed him.

"I know," Missy said, shrugging, "But I wasn't about to have the slight possibility of his medical rescue hanging over my head at night. Not when he tried to shoot the one true thing in the universe I actually care about."

Charlie swallowed, looking from the dead man to her mother.

"Can we go back to the TARDIS now?" She asked quietly. "I want ice cream."

"That can be arranged," Missy assured her, taking her hand and leading her from the building, "After the day we've had, I'd say we've earned it."

* * *

After ice cream with Master Fokine, Missy decided that she was tired enough to actually sleep, and so climbed into Charlie's bed with her. They were wearing matching Teletubbies pajamas, and Missy's hand gently stroked through Charlie's hair as they lay there.

"Would he have died if you hadn't killed him?" Charlie asked, breaking their comfortable silence.

"I honestly have no idea, kit," Missy said, sighing, "But he was bothersome, so I wanted him definitely dead, not just maybe dead."

"I was trying to shoot him in the leg."

"I know. I saw your hand move."

"Are you angry? That I didn't try to kill him?"

"No, of course not," Missy assured her, kissing the top of her forehead and continuing to affectionately push the hair out of her face, "A little disappointed, maybe, but it's early days, kit. Even I wasn't a killer at your age. I just thought it might make things easier if you were, like your father. And like how I am now."

"I'll try harder next time."

"No, you'll kill someone when you want to kill someone, or need to kill someone, not before," Missy insisted. "Unless I really think you should, for whatever reason."

"Oh," Charlie said, "Okay. That sounds better."

"Of course it does. It was silly for me to try anything else. Now go to sleep, it's been a long day."

Charlie snuggled in closer to her, and relished the feeling of her mother's body curled around hers protectively. "I love you," she said before shutting her eyes.

"I love you too, kit. Killing or not, you were brilliant today. Proud mum right here. Which isn't something me from a decade ago ever expected to be saying, but here we are. You've got me all sentimental and motherly. _Me_. "

"You're silly," Charlie mumbled.

Missy pressed a kiss to her temple and chuckled. "You know what, kit, I think you're right about that. But I do it magnificently."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I didn't know going into this chapter whether Charlie was going to kill Jax or not (originally that was the plan but I became less sure about it and decided to let the characters take over and let the scene run its course instead, and here we are). Thanks for reading, leave a comment to let me know what you thought!


	11. New Friends and Old Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy and Charlie say goodbye to Fokine and take up residence on the planet Wiren, where Charlie finally makes some friends her own age. But things get tricky when two other offworlders turn up.

With one last pirouette and a drop down into a final pose, Charlie kept her poise and controlled her breathing through her stomach until Master Fokine and her mother burst into applause.

"That was wonderful," Fokine said, looking immensely pleased and in no small way self-satisfied.

"Thank you," Charlie said politely as she got back to her feet.

"Satisfied?" Fokine asked Missy, who clasped her hands together and regarded her daughter with a pleased glint in her eye.

"Immensely. Thank you, Mikhail, but I don't think I'll require your services any longer," she said, smiling, "Still, now you can add having trained a Gallifreyan on your resume, so that's something, and if anyone asks where she studied, we'll have quite the bragging rights."

"You do me too much credit, I think," he said, but took the flattery happily, "But thank you. I'll pack up my things, then? I miss Russia."

"Yes, yes, we'll get you there in a jiffy," Missy said, flapping her hand before moving to embrace Charlie in congratulations. "Well done, darling."

"Am I going to be learning something new now?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Of course," Missy told her, "Since you can't train at the Academy, I have to do my best to provide the best education I can. Which, honestly, is probably for the best, because we can skip all the boring fusspot bits and have more of the useful things. You know, like being able to hold your own in a sword fight. You never know when that might come in handy."

"You haven't simply taught her ballet in hopes it will make her a more proficient fencer, I hope? I'd rather thought you appreciated the art," Fokine sniffed.

"Don't be silly, Mikhail," Missy said, rolling her eyes, "There's no reason it can't be both."

* * *

Fokine got surprisingly emotional upon his final farewell once they were back in Russia, and Charlie gave him an extra big hug and a kiss on the cheek while he brushed a few stray tears out of his eyes.

"Do pay me a visit some time," he told them, "I shall be most interested to see what sort of young lady you grow into, Charlotte."

"I'm hoping a taller one," Charlie said seriously.

That made him laugh heartily. "I'm sure you will be. Keep up your practice, and make sure your mother looks after you."

"When do I not?" Missy asked, rolling her eyes. "She doesn't want for anything."

"True enough," Fokine admitted, smiling, "Well, goodbye for now, my friends. It has been an honour and a pleasure." With that, they left him at the ballet school an hour after they had taken him away, and headed back to the TARDIS.

"So am I going to learn fencing now?" Charlie asked her mother.

"Soon, kit," Missy promised, her hand at the back of Charlie's neck playing with a curl of her hair, "First, we're overdue for some proper fun. How does taking over a planet sound?"

"Will I get another crown?" Charlie asked hopefully. She still had her one from Tristine, but found the prospect of another rather enticing.

Missy chuckled. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

* * *

The new crown was made of ice. Or at least, partially, the native ice of Wiren that never melted, with a very fine silver wire looped around it and fashioned into an ornamental front for the headpiece. It contrasted wonderfully with Charlie's dark hair and she was instantly enchanted with it.

Missy had little interest in one for herself, and didn't ask for thrones this time. But then, Wiren was ruled by a council of royalty, so this time they were only one of a group of royals, integrating instead of taking over. For once, that seemed to be enough for Missy, but she didn't share her plans for their visit with Charlie and mostly keep to her study/lab, so the girl couldn't be sure why.

The colder environment meant a change in wardrobe for both of them, and Charlie quickly became very attached to her fur lined coat with a hood. Her usual boots were perfect for the ice and were able to stay.

But the biggest change wasn't the weather.

For the first time, Charlie was allowed to spend time with other children. The ruling council had a section in their educational facility where their own children received special treatment due to their status, and Charlie was sent along with all the others.

All the natives were humanoid, but didn't have much in the way of ethnic diversity - all of them had incredibly dark skin, making Charlie (and her mother) an outlier.

"Princess Snow!" Her new friends ran to her as she entered the classroom one morning, a few months after their arrival. The nickname was one she had earned near immediately due to the colour of her skin resembling the snow that made up the walls around them. She found she rather liked it.

Several of her closer friends hugged her in greeting - they were a very affectionate people - and Charlie hugged them back, laughing.

"What are we doing today?" She asked them.

"We're making costumes for the play," her friend Tena told her, a pretty girl her age with fantastically bouncy dark hair that stuck out from her head. "Come help us, we're making butterby wings!"

The wings were about the size of the children themselves, and a fantastic range of colours. Charlie of course opted to make purple ones with dark sparkles. Tena happily bubbled about the festival at which the play would be performed, and was more than happy to answer all of Charlie's questions about it. They worked and talked peacefully enough until a few of the boys ran over, the streamers they were making billowing behind them.

One of the boys, a nine year old named Lane, bent down to give Tena a peck on the lips before she could do anything about it. The boys all burst into laughter before running back off into the corner.

Charlie laughed at the utter bewilderment on Tena's face, and her friend eventually grinned at her and threw some glitter in her direction.

"Stop it," she said, but started laughing herself. "Boys are so weird."

"Are they?" Charlie asked. She'd never really thought so, even if her time on Wiren had been her first real exposure to any her own age. Her father and Master Fokine hardly counted, after all.

Tena hadn't seem to anticipate her response, and frowned. "I dunno, actually."

"Do you want a kiss too, Charlie?" One of the other boys of the small group yelled across the room, another nine year old who was called Raf.

"Um," Charlie said, giving it serious consideration before making her decision, "No, I don't think so."

Raf shrugged and gave her a grin anyway, but she paid it no mind and went back to finishing off the purple pair of butterby wings. When she was done, she started on a red pair the same colour of her mum's favourite lipstick.

"Boys aren't weird, they're just boys, just like we're just girls and just like Xav is neither," she said to Tena all the while, "You probably just think they're weird because you have two mums, so you haven't been around as many boys."

"Oh," Tena said, biting on her glitter pen thoughtfully, "I hadn't thought about it like that. You're probably right."

"I usually am, I think," Charlie replied without looking up.

Come lunch time, most of the decorations were done, and Charlie and Tena tucked into their food while feeling very accomplished. It occurred to Charlie that perhaps for the first time in her life, she had a real best friend, and not just someone who was the person she happened to be closest to at the time who wasn't one of her parents.

"Tena, are we best friends?" She asked, figuring she might as well be sure.

Tena looked up from her cup of tea - Wirens were big on tea, given that they lived in ice - and blinked at her with those big brown eyes that Charlie always liked admiring.

"Yes, I think so. Is that okay?"

Charlie grinned. "That's great. I've never had a best friend before."

"Neither."

That was when Raf sat down in the empty seat beside them. Charlie turned to ask him how their streamers were going but didn't get a chance to before he had swooped in to press a clumsy kiss to her lips. He was grinning when he pulled away.

Charlie didn't give a lot of thought to her next action; her anger at her expressed wishes being ignored overruled everything else in that split second. Her small fist collided with his face with a force that sent him off the bench and to the floor. Around her everyone let out exclamations of surprise, and one of the adult supervisors immediately rushed off to see why there was a whimpering boy on the floor.

"Princess Charlie!" The woman said with horror. "What have you done?"

"I hit him," she said simply.

"Why?"

"He kissed me when he knew I didn't want him to."

"That's no reason to hit anyone!"

"I'm sorry Miss Harn but I don't agree," Charlie said politely, crossing her arms. "He can't think it's okay to go around kissing people who don't want it."

Harn stared at her. "I'm calling for your mother, and his."

Charlie sat back down and shrugged. "Okay."

* * *

Raf's mother arrived first. She was a very tall woman named Vera who wore a knit scarf around her head like so many other Wirens did, and her already severe features were augmented by the scowl that graced her face when she saw the bruise beginning to bloom on her son's skin.

"Who did this?" She demanded, and every child in the room turned to look at Charlie, who only lifted her chin when Vera strode towards her. She wasn't scared of adults who didn't carry weapons.

"We'll get into all that when her mother gets here," Harn said awkwardly.

At that moment, Missy arrived, storming into the room and looking very irritated about being there. "What the hell was so important that I had to leave my work?" She took one look at Charlie and put her hands on her hips. "My daughter appears to be in one piece and no imminent danger, so if it's all the same to you, I'm going to get back to my research." She turned to leave.

"Your daughter assaulted another student," Harn told her, which made her turn back around and arch a perfect eyebrow at the three of them.

"Oh?" She asked. "And why did she do that?"

"Raf asked me if I wanted a kiss, and I told him no," Charlie said, "And then at lunch he kissed me anyway. So I hit him."

Missy blinked, and then chuckled. "Nice one, kit. I'm proud of you."

"Your majesty, I can't condone you _praising_ her for what she's done-"

"Raf, is this true?" Vera asked her son, with little regard for her interrupting of Harn. He just nodded at her, and her frown deepened. A moment later, she looked back to Charlie with a marginally softer expression. "What's your name, little princess? I've forgotten."

"Charlie."

"Well, Charlie, as your mother said, you did well today. Though in the future, perhaps don't hit quite so hard. You seem to have quite the swing on you."

Harn gaped, and Charlie and Missy didn't bother to hide their surprise either. It occurred to Charlie that she had been in a similar situation before on Earth, but the other parent had reacted quite differently.

"Queen Vera, surely you of all people don't believe that what happened was _right_ ," Harn stammered, "Boys will be boys, after all-"

"Boys will be held accountable for their actions, just like anyone else," Vera replied firmly, giving her son a withering look that made him go red and look at the floor. She knelt beside him and made him meet her eyes. "Now, Raf, are you ever going to kiss anyone who has made it clear they don't want to be kissed by you?"

"No," the boy promised, gulping.

"Say sorry to Charlie."

"I'm sorry, Charlie."

Vera sighed and her eyes warmed a little. "Well, I think you've learned your lesson. You'll certainly be feeling it for a few days at least. I think we'd better get you home and get some ice on that bruise." She looked up at Charlie and Missy. "I hope we can move past this with no problems?"

"She hit the kid, I'm happy enough," Missy said, shrugging, "It's down to her, really."

"He won't do it again," Charlie said confidently, also giving a shrug of her shoulders.

Vera nodded and bid them goodbye, leading her son from the room by the hand and leaving them with a still slightly bewildered Harn.

"If that's all," Missy said mildly, and followed Vera out.

Harn, with a frown, gave Charlie leave to rejoin the others. She sought out Tena, who was building a rather impressively sized castle out of the colourful bricks in the corner.

"Can I help?"

Tena looked up at her and beamed. "Yes please." The castle was big enough for them to both easily sit down inside, so Charlie sat cross legged opposite her best friend and helped her to build the bricks up around them, and even suggested an extension that Tena agreed to enthusiastically.

They worked for a while in relative silence.

"So you're not in trouble?" Tena asked, and Charlie shook her head.

"They decided it was good that he learned his lesson."

Her friend giggled. "It was funny. And you didn't even look scared when Miss Harn got mad at you for it. You're really brave."

Charlie shrugged. "She's not very scary."

"I think she is."

"I've probably just met scarier people than you have."

"Probably." Tena tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing as she gave something a lot of thought, her hand meanwhile stretching out to play with the end of Charlie's hair. "Charlie, can I kiss you?"

Charlie blinked. And then, like with Raf, thought it over. "Okay."

Tena beamed, revealing the white gapped teeth that contrasted with her dark skin. Then she giggled and leaned in to press her lips softly against Charlie's. After a few moments she pulled away, and Charlie giggled too.

"Kissing's weird," the young Gallifreyan said, and Tena nodded.

"I don't know why older people get excited about it," her friend agreed, making a face and going back to building the castle, "But then I don't understand a lot of things adults do."

"Adults are weird," Charlie said solemnly, "Much weirder than boys."

"I think you're right. Now, are we going to be the queens of this castle when it's done?"

"I think so. We're definitely not going to let anyone else have it, and I'm pretty sure to share things like castles you have to be married or at least should be, so we'll probably have to get married."

Tena frowned. "Does that mean more kissing?"

"Better you than Raf," Charlie said, shrugging and making Tena laugh, "But I think we can pretend like with everything else."

"Good plan, Queen Charlie."

"I'm glad you think so, Queen Tena. This is why you're my favourite wife."

"I'm not your wife until we finish the castle."

"Oh. Well hurry up then."

* * *

For a few more months, their life on Wiren was surprisingly uneventful. Charlie had no complaints, as she found herself really enjoying her time at the school with the other royal children. Funnily enough, Raf ended up being her second best friend. Her punching him had struck up an awe and admiration in him that she found vastly entertaining. She and Tena told Raf that he could be the butler of their castle if he played nicely. He was oddly taken with that and the three of them got along famously.

Whenever she got home, Missy was always hard at work, but they'd been there almost six months before she finally explained what she was doing.

"I'm working on replicating the Wiren ice in a way that means it can be cultivated as an energy source, kit," she said after Charlie asked for what felt like the hundredth time. "And I've almost got it. I just need a test run."

"What kind of test run?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

Charlie believed her, even if she had no idea how ice could be a power source, even if it was special ice that couldn't melt. But the next day, when sirens began blaring through the halls of the citadel, it never occurred to her that her mother might be the reason for it even if it probably should have.

At the school, Tena was quick to run up to her.

"Miss Harn said that some people who look like you and your mum turned up in the city today," she told Charlie, "Do you think they might have something to do with the sirens?"

"I suppose that would make sense," Charlie said, "What did the people want?"

"I don't know, that's all she said."

Less than half an hour later a different siren started sounding, one that sent Miss Harn into a panic and had her telling them to grab their coats and bags and follow her in an orderly line out to the corridor.

"Quickly," she said, her dark skin sallow with worry.

"What's wrong?" Raf asked her.

"Nothing, your highness, it's simply a drill," Harn told him, patting his head, but Charlie found that she didn't believe her. A few minutes later, Charlie spotted a glimpse of someone down a corridor, someone who definitely shouldn't have been on Wiren if it was who she thought it was.

With a frown, she slipped out of line and followed after the figure, needing to see if she was right or if she had imagined it.

Finally, she was close enough that she felt confident calling out.

"Clara?" She shouted, not bothering to hide the confusion in her voice.

The diminutive schoolteacher spun around, and her characteristic dark eyes became impossibly huge.

"Charlie?!"

* * *

Clara had followed the Doctor's instructions and gotten the panic alarm for the city sounded, so she saw some people heading for safer spaces who were too worried to pay a pale stranger too much mind. Which suited her just fine - the Doctor had gone to find whoever was behind the threat and stop them, and as his backup, she needed to get to him as soon as possible.

But a small voice calling her name from behind her - a very familiar, Scottish voice - made her whip around like a shot.

"Charlie?!"

Sure enough, standing alone in the icy corridor, was the little girl who had haunted her dreams for the four months since Missy had taken her away. But it had clearly been longer for her - she looked three or four years older, her body longer and less round now, her face starting to show features that were angular like her mother's. But Clara could see the Doctor in her too, in her frown and the way her eyes effortlessly captured Clara's own.

A deep ache in her gut made tears spring to her eyes and she started running towards her.

"Oh my god, Charlie," she said, and was relieved to realise that Charlie was running too. They met in the middle and Clara sank to the ground so that she could hug the girl with her whole body, cradling her to her chest and pressing her nose into her hair, for a moment keeping her safe in the way she had been unable to do for far too long.

Charlie hugged her back just as tightly, a little laugh escaping her throat. "I missed you," the girl said, which only made Clara cry more.

"I missed you too," she told her, hand stroking over her hair as she pulled back so she could take her in again and be reassured that it was actually her and she was actually here. "Oh Charlie we were so worried about you."

Charlie just laughed again. "Why?"

Clara bit her lip, hoping at least that if that was her reaction then perhaps there was really little to worry about in terms of her physical wellbeing at the very least. But there were plenty of other things worth worrying about, things Charlie wouldn't necessarily know were a problem.

"Well you know, your mum isn't very nice," she said slowly, not wanting to upset the girl.

Charlie shrugged. "No, but she's nice to me, and people like Master Fokine, and that's all that matters."

Clara decided against asking who Master Fokine was and instead just gave her a tentative smile. "Well, you have a point there, I suppose. Now, come on, do you want to see your Dad?"

Charlie's face lit up. "Yes!"

Clara grinned. "I thought you might." She took Charlie's hand and led her briskly through the corridors as she followed the directions the Doctor gave her. Eventually they came to the place he had described and stormed into the spacious study.

What she hadn't been prepared to see was the Doctor being pressed up against a hardwood desk by Missy, who had her hand down his pants. Clara immediately felt sick and it took all her self-control to beat down the nausea. Meanwhile, next to her, Charlie let out a giggle.

"Clara," the Doctor gasped, his face turning scarlet, "This - this isn't what it looks like, I swear."

"Actually, I think this is exactly what it looks like," she snapped, "And I think you need your brain examined."

"Be fair on him, Clara dear," Missy said lightly, leaning against the Doctor even further and smirking, "I can be _very_ persuasive. He's never been much good at resisting."

"Get away from him, you bitch," Clara told her, her voice shaking with anger.

Missy smiled. "Gladly." Her hand reached around the Doctor's back and then she stepped back, a small piece of tech clasped in her palm. "Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but this place is about to get _explosively_ exciting, if you take my meaning, and since I have everything I need I'd like to be on my way with my daughter."

"You're mad if you think we're letting you go anywhere with her now that we've got her back," Clara said fiercely.

That just made Missy cock an eyebrow, her lips pursing with what Charlie recognised to be annoyance. "You'll have to, if you want to get the Doctor out of those handcuffs in time to get you both back to _your_ TARDIS."

They all looked to the Doctor, who had just tried to move away from the desk only to discover that he was in fact restrained.

"Handcuffs!" He shouted incredulously. "Why do you women always have _handcuffs_?!"

* * *

With a smirk of satisfaction, Missy approached Clara and forcibly removed her hand from Charlie's wrist before leaning in very close to the human brunette.

"In the future," she said quietly, "If you can't keep your hands off my things, I'll cut them off. Are we understood?"

Clara swallowed but just stared back at her defiantly. "Go to hell."

Missy snorted at Clara's response to her threat and made to leave. Charlie met her father's eyes as she was dragged from the room. She hadn't even gotten to speak to him and had half a mind to resist her mother and run back to him. But something else Missy had said caught in her mind.

"Is this place going to blow up?" Charlie asked as they headed for the royal residential area where their TARDIS was stashed.

"Yes, because your father likes ruining my fun and set my experiment off _wrong_ ," Missy spat, "The gall of him, honestly. Well, it means the people who die here are on _his_ head, barely anyone would have died if he'd let me stick to _my_ plan."

"Are Tena and Raf going to die?" Charlie asked with alarm, panic rising in her as for the first time she felt worried for the life of someone who wasn't one of her parents.

"The royal bunker is probably the only one on the planet that's totally competent," Missy said to her, shaking her head, "They'll be inside it by now. Your little friends and their parents will be fine."

"Oh," Charlie said, exhaling with relief, "Okay."

They reached the TARDIS which was disguised as their wardrobe in their royal apartment, and rushed inside. Once they had taken off, Charlie sat on the floor and pondered the fact that there was a good chance she wouldn't see Tena or Raf again. The thought made her stomach feel unpleasant and gave her a craving for ice cream.

Before she could ask her mother for some, however, warning bleeps flooded the console room, making Missy frowned at her controls.

"What the hell - oh no you don't you lanky bastard," she muttered, moving around the console with new urgency, with such grace and concentration that Charlie could only watch, transfixed. "No, no, no!"

There wasn't time to ask what was wrong before the whole world seemed to go funny for a moment. When it came right, Charlie wasn't in the TARDIS anymore. Or rather, she was, but the wrong one. The console room around her was darker and full of blue hues and roundels.

In front of her was her father and Clara, exchanging some kind of triumphant hi-five. While she just blinked at them, trying to work out what had happened but coming up blank, they both rushed to embrace her. For a moment she forgot her worries and let herself enjoy it, the strange warmth of Clara's human body and the smell of her father's jacket, two things she hadn't even realised she'd been missing sorely until that moment.

"Oh, kit, I've missed you so much," her father breathed, properly gathering her into his arms and hugging her to him while Clara stroked her hair and smiled at her over his shoulder.

"I missed you too," she said, "But what am I doing here?"

"We got you back," Clara told her, smiling widely, "We got a lock on her TARDIS, your dad whipped up some temporary time freeze thing, we boarded and grabbed you and then left. And we're never going to let her steal you away again."

Charlie looked at them. How proud they seemed of themselves. They genuinely seemed to believe they were delivering her great news.

She couldn't quite muster up the enthusiasm to smile back immediately. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with them, but they had each other, and Missy only had her. But it sounded like they for some reason didn't want Missy anywhere near her ever again and had taken precautions against her finding them. Which just really wasn't an option as far as Charlie was concerned.

Still, she didn't see this turn of events as a cause for alarm. If her mother wasn't going to be able to find her, she was just going to have to at some point run away from her father and find Missy instead of the other way around.

She smiled at the Doctor and Clara, not wanting to alert them to her new plan which would take some time to work out properly. Which was okay, because it would be nice to spend time with them again. She wasn't in a rush to get away, so long as she actually did.

"Okay," she said, "Do you have any ice cream?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish Twelve and Clara and Missy could all just get along and have cake together or something, but alas they're too busy fighting over an almost nine year old. Ah well. Writing them at odds is good fun too. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!


	12. The Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's plan to get back to Missy goes badly wrong.

It turned out that one of Charlie's bracelets that had been a gift from Missy had a tracker in it, so the first thing the Doctor did was ensure it was disabled once the TARDIS alerted him to the signal being sent out.

"Dad, I want to go back to Mum," she said to him as he sat in the jump seat and fiddled with the piece of technology.

"I'm sorry, Charlie, that's out of the question."

"Why?" She asked, with genuine curiosity.

"Because she's not good for you, Charlie," he replied, looking up at her with solemn eyes before returning to his task. "I need to keep you safe."

"You don't need to, Mum keeps me safe," Charlie told him, confusion and some new unpleasant feeling filling up her chest.

The Doctor looked up, disbelief and hurt in his eyes. "Would you rather be with her? Is that what you're saying?"

She bit her lip. "Why do I have to choose? Why can't I just be with both of you? Why can't we _all_ be together?" It wasn't something she'd given a lot of thought before. With one or two exceptions, she only had quite vague memories of her parents together from when she was a baby - after that, having her parents more or less separate had just been a part of her life she hadn't questioned.

But now, it occurred to her that she'd never asked why, and the longing to have both of her parents at the same time and the need to know why it couldn't happen almost choked her as tears welled up in her eyes.

The Doctor's expression melted and he put down the bracelet and screwdriver to stand up and step towards her, his arms out with obvious intent to pull her into a hug. Charlie found herself stepping back from him.

"No, don't hug me, hugging hides your face," she said, her voice firm even through her tears as she stared at him, "And I don't need to be hugged, I need to understand. So just look at me and tell me _why_."

"I'm sorry, kit," he muttered, rocking back on his ankles as he kept his distance, "This isn't fair on you. None of this is."

"My friend Tena's mums love each other," Charlie said, "I didn't know that was meant to be what parents do, but she said it is, that's why they have kids. Is it that you don't love Mum? Is that why it's different for us?"

His mouth opened but nothing came out. Finally he just said, "It's complicated, Charlie."

"Why? Do you love her or not?"

"Of course I do!" He said hopelessly, coming closer and getting onto his knees to better meet her eye. "She is my oldest friend in the universe, and is very dear to me. But she does things I can't condone, things I can't let you be exposed to."

"Like killing people?"

He let out a sigh. It occurred to Charlie just how tired he looked. "Yes, kit. Like killing people."

"I've _already_ been exposed to that, so why does it matter?"

"See? That's just the problem, Charlie," he said, cupping her face in his hands, "You shouldn't have been. You're what? Eight? Nine? Killing is wrong, and if your mother has had people killed around you or in front of you, that is _exactly_ why I'm going to do everything I can to keep her away from you."

"But I don't _want_ her away from me, I love her, she's my mum and I need her and she needs me," Charlie told him, pushing away from him.

"What about me?" He asked, earnestly, not making a move to come closer but his eyes imploring her. " _I_ need you, Charlie. And _I_ love you. Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do. But you have Clara. Mum doesn't have anyone, just me."

"Your mother's isolation from other people is something she brings on herself," he said darkly, his eyebrows knotting together, "If she treated people decently and didn't kill them like cattle, she would have friends like I have Clara. She could have a friend like me. But she doesn't, because she doesn't care about people."

"She cares about me," Charlie told him, "And she cares about you."

"That isn't enough, Charlie."

She held his gaze evenly. "It's enough for me." With that she turned on her heel and ran out of the console room, past Clara who was coming in with mugs full of some hot drink.

Her old room was easy enough to find, and she sat on the floor, hugging a teddy to her chest and sobbing for the first time that she could even remember.

* * *

It was several hours before there was a knock on Charlie's door. She paid it no mind, sniffing as she turned the page of the book about sharks she was reading.

Her father came in anyway, and sat down cross legged next to her on the floor. He held out the bracelet in his hand.

"It's deactivated, so you can have it back now, I'd not keep it from you," he said, offering it to her. She silently took it and put it back around her wrist, finding herself instantly comforted by its presence. "I'm sorry, Charlie. You were born into a difficult family, and you deserve better, but I'm afraid this is the best I can do."

"Mum looks after me," Charlie said, frowning, "She'd never let anyone hurt me and she's a better teacher than you are, I've learnt _heaps-_ "

"I'm sure you have," he replied, giving her a tight smile, "But she's had a long while with you now. Don't you think it's fair that I get a turn?"

"I guess," she mumbled, "But I think Mum won't agree. She'll be angry."

"She'll have to find us first."

"How long will your turn be?" Charlie asked, and noticed how he seemed reluctant to answer. "Hers was almost four years, does that mean I can go back to her when I'm twelve and a half?"

The Doctor gave her another smile. "Why don't we just see how it goes?"

She regarded him carefully. "Alright." After a moment's hesitation, she pushed the book off her lap and climbed into his so that she could hug him tightly. She _had_ missed him terribly, especially the way his arms enveloped her and he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world. (It was different to how Missy embraced her, like she was the _only_ precious thing in the world.)

"I did miss you," she told him, "I missed you a lot."

"We're together now," he murmured into her hair, kissing the side of her head, "That's all that matters."

* * *

"Doctor, how is it that we're losing to an eight year old?"

The Time Lord just covered his face with his hand. "I don't know, but this is a new level of embarrassing. Don't you dare tell people about this."

"Three hotels please," Charlie said, holding out the paper money to him and beaming when the red bits of plastic were handed to her for her to put on her green properties.

"Why would I? There was a 'we' in there for a reason."

"I like your lipstick, Clara, it's pretty," Charlie told the human, who smiled widely at her, which only served to make her more beautiful. The girl had forgotten how beautiful her father's friend was. It was nice to have her face around again.

"Thank you, Charlie." Clara landed on the girl's newly updated properties. "Damn."

Charlie grinned. "And now you have to _paayy_ ," she said in a sing-song voice, unknowing sounding absurdly like her mother, so much so that the Doctor and Clara stared at her for long enough that she blinked at them. "What?"

"Nothing," Clara said, grabbing the money and handing it over.

"You just sounded a lot like your mam there, Charlie," the Doctor told his daughter, smiling.

"Oh," Charlie said with a small laugh, "That's cool."

"Like her looking like her wasn't bad enough," Clara muttered, only to get a glare from her Time Lord friend, and a frown from the child next to her.

"What's wrong with how I look?" She asked, confused.

Clara's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, no, nothing, Charlie. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." She reached out to touch Charlie's hair. "You're wonderful, inside and out, don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"No one ever has," Charlie said with a shrug of her shoulders, "And if they did I don't see why I'd listen unless it was one of you two or Mum."

Clara gave her a tiny smile. "Can't argue with that."

Once the game was over, and Charlie had won much to the dismay of the adults, she was tucked into bed by both of them, getting a kiss on the forehead from each in turn.

"Do you want us to read you a story, or something?" Clara asked, scanning the bookshelf.

"No, I'm okay," Charlie said. She hadn't needed stories to go to sleep since she had last lived on this TARDIS. Besides, she had other things to be doing. "I think I'll just sleep."

"Alright," the Doctor said, kissing her again, this time on the side of her head, "Goodnight, Charlie."

"Goodnight," she said to both of them. Once they were gone, she waited to be sure they weren't coming back, in the meantime surveying her old room. It was strange to be back. Not in a bad way, but something about it just didn't feel quite right anymore, even if she had missed her father and Clara terribly over the last few years.

She bent over her bed to pull out the sketchbook from underneath it, where she had been mapping out her plan of escape the two nights she'd been there. It hadn't taken her long to decide that her best plan was to find a way to fix Missy's tracker - then it would simply be a matter of getting far enough away from her father and Clara that her mother could come and get her.

There were three major obstacles with this plan. One: she was not quite nine years old and was not remotely knowledgeable enough about fixing transtemporal trackers. Two: if she did manage to fix it, the TARDIS would immediately know and alert the Doctor and she'd be back to square one (except actually in the negatives, because then he'd suspect her and she'd get nowhere). Three: getting far enough away from her father and Clara would prove difficult given to how protective they were being.

She already had solutions to the first two obstacles. If she didn't know how to fix the tracker, she needed to learn. And if fixing it would alert the TARDIS, she just had to mostly fix it, and finish fixing it _after_ she'd gotten away from her current guardians.

With the grace Master Fokine had taken months to instil in her, Charlie silently crept out of her room and to the library, where she scoured the shelves for nearly an hour before she found a few volumes that looked helpful.

" _Electronic Engineering: A Beginner's Guide,"_ she read, nodding to herself and putting it under her arm as she kept going and eventually found the next, _"The Tech Behind Trackers."_ That one was larger and heavier, and so she put her pile of two on the ground before continuing her search. _"Temporal Mechanics_."

Those seemed like a good starting point, and she piled them into her arms, nearly dropping them due to the weight. But she employed what muscle she had - which thanks to the ballet wasn't totally nonexistent - and slowly made her way back to her room.

"You've got to be careful, Clara, you can't be badmouthing Missy in front of her like that," she heard her father's voice say, and she pressed herself to the wall, hoping with all her might they didn't come around the corner and see her and the incriminating books.

"I know, it's just...it's just hard, okay? I hate to think of the stuff she might have been putting in her head all this time."

"I know, Clara, don't you think I'm exactly the same? But she loves her mother, deeply, and our disparaging her more than absolutely necessary is the quickest way for her resent us and being here, which we can't have."

Charlie swallowed as their voices disappeared gradually, the footsteps also growing fainter. She could vaguely understand their concern about Missy, since she knew that they had very different opinions on things and didn't want to her have the same opinions as Missy. But they really didn't need to be worried about her. She was fine. And her mother was an excellent parent, Charlie was sure.

Once back in her room, Charlie cracked open the electronic engineering book and began to read.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the technical reading wasn't easy reading, but Missy's diligent lessons meant they also weren't impossible to understand after a few nights of trying. Charlie was confident she was learning enough that it would only take her another night before she could move onto the book about trackers.

In the meantime, though, she had to hide her yawns from Clara as she mixed the soufflé batter in front of her. The human had suggested that Charlie help her try to make a soufflé. Charlie couldn't remember her soufflés ever working out in the past, but hadn't seen any reason to argue.

The Doctor was sitting at the counter, strumming on his guitar. "So you went to school on Wiren, Charlie?"

"Yep!" Charlie said, brightening at the thought. "I made proper friends. Tena and I made a castle, and we were the queens and Raf was our butler."

"Sounds like fun," Clara said, grinning as she scooped sugar into the mixing bowl.

"What about the schoolwork? You said your mum's been teaching you loads, wouldn't the work at the school have been far too easy?" The Doctor asked.

Charlie paused in her mixing to shrug. "Yeah, but I didn't mind because I had my friends. Mum gave me extra lessons after dinner sometimes that stopped me from getting bored."

"That's good, then."

Not long after that, the soufflé went in the oven, and the Doctor offered to teach Charlie how to play a few chords on his guitar. They sat on the couch at the other end of the room, the guitar on Charlie's lap because it was a bit too large and heavy for her to hold. (And unknown to her father, her arms still ached from carrying the books back to her room even though it had been two nights ago.)

Her father sat next to her, adjusting her fingers into the right shapes with a patience he only ever showed when he was teaching her something.

"Yeah, like that," he said, smiling at her, "Now strum." She did, and a not entirely unpleasant sound rang through the air. "Nice one."

"Show me another one," Charlie said eagerly.

" _Please_ ," Clara added, giving her a pointed look, though a smile was on her lips.

It made Charlie huff all the same. "Please," she said, wondering when the word had become so foreign on her tongue.

The Doctor just chuckled. "Of course, kit. Okay, this one is called D major…."

The lesson continued until the souffle came out of the oven. It was lopsided and tasted highly questionable, much to Clara's dismay and Charlie's amusement. The Doctor just looked like he was used to it, and explained to Charlie in a whisper in Gallifreyan that failed souffle attempts were very common when it came to Clara.

Charlie considered that since this baking business seemed a bit complex, it was probably a good thing her mother had never tried it.

* * *

Voices in the console room were getting more heated, and Charlie crept to the archway to hear them better while making sure to not reveal her.

"She's on a _rampage_ , Doctor! You just said it yourself, she's destroyed three planets and is wrecking Galadia's third colony planet as we speak!"

"I don't know what you expected, Clara, three weeks ago we took away her daughter!"

"Don't you dare try and _justify_ what she is doing-"

"I'm not!" Charlie got a glimpse of her father's face. He was pinching his nose with his fingers. "Having a reason doesn't make it reasonable. I'm just saying that we should have seen it coming."

"Stop her."

"How?!"

"Take me back to her," Charlie said, stepping properly into the console room, much to their shock. "If she's doing things you don't like because you took me away, give me back."

"You know we can't do that," the Doctor told her, his face falling as he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder.

She knew that he had told her the same before. She knew that arguing with him had brought her to tears and that doing so again would almost definitely not yield better results. She knew that it was better to bow her head and say nothing, to bide her time. And so she did.

He responded to her silence by pulling her into a hug. "I'm sorry, kit."

"I was just coming to say goodnight, so I'm going to sleep now," she said quietly.

"Do you want me to come with you? Read you something?"

"No, I'm okay," she told him, moving away.

Clara bent to kiss her cheek, her hand stroking over Charlie's wild curls. "Goodnight, Charlie. For what it's worth, I'm sorry too."

"Okay. Goodnight, Clara."

Charlie left the console room, but didn't go to her bedroom. Instead she wandered, trying to think if there was a possible better plan for her escape, one that didn't rely on her being able to fix a device with entirely self taught knowledge.

She ended up in the library, but found a room she hadn't come across before. It was small and square and entirely lined with shelves, not full of books but instead out of place objects. A teddy bear. A book on the American Revolution. A long pale scarf, a thorn, a broken golden star, a scrap of ordinary notebook paper with a scribble that looked like it should be on a pyramid. A purple hat in a strange shape. A silver can with a dent in the side, a pair of half moon spectacles, a hair scrunchie, two different stethoscopes, and a detective book about angels.

The place was so bizarre that Charlie could only stare. But there was one more thing, a simple wooden box next to the book, and the strangeness of all the objects around her roused a curiosity. A need to know what was inside the box.

So she approached it and lifted the lid, only for her eyes to widen.

It was a vortex manipulator. Similar to her mother's, but not identical. Older. More battered. She picked it up, wondering who it had belonged to. It only took her a few more moments to realise that it didn't matter, that she didn't have any reason to care, because this was what she needed.

This was a different way out. Clara unknowingly had told her exactly where her mother was and now she had a way to get to her.

She grabbed it and held it tight to her chest as she hurried to the nearest data terminal in the library. She looked up the third colony of Galadia and got the coordinates for the capital city, which seemed like the most likely place for her mother to be if she was wreaking havoc. Once she had the coordinates entered into the manipulator, she headed back to her room and tore a page out of her sketchbook, writing a quick note to her father explaining where she had gone and apologising for it.

The bracelet was almost fixed, or so she thought, and she was fairly sure she knew how to fix it, but before finding the manipulator she had been planning on a few more nights of reading to be more sure before thinking about how to try and get away.

Now she had another way. But the bracelet, if she could fix it, could be useful if finding Missy on Galadia proved to be tricky.

Once the note was written, she put on her coat from Wiren in case of cold weather where she was headed, and looked down at the manipulator. With a deep breath, she hit the button and she felt her body lurch along with the world around her.

It was the most horrid thing she had ever experienced and when it was over, she collapsed into a pile of snow and clutched her stomach which was in revolt. Once she could think past the utter wrongness still vibrating through her very being, she became truly aware of the snow and was glad for the decision to wear the coat.

Except there was just one problem, and it made her sit up straight with worry.

Galadia's third colony planet was a jungle planet. But as she looked around her, there was nothing but ice for miles, not a single tree in sight let alone a forest or jungle.

Charlie had to accept an awful truth as she began to shiver in the cold that was so biting it made Wiren seem tropical.

She was in the wrong place.

There was a recall button on the manipulator, but when she pressed it, nothing happened except for a fizzle which sounded like a broken circuit. So not only was she in the wrong place, she was stuck.

To make it even worse, she was already losing the feeling in her fingers.

It occurred to her that she still had the tracker bracelet, and her hands shook as she opened the panel and fiddled with the circuits in what she hoped was the right way. A light came on that she hadn't seen before, which she had to hope meant that it was working, because otherwise she had no idea of what to do. She curled in on herself and keep her hands inside the coat sleeves to try and keep the cold out.

Now there was nothing else to do but wait.

* * *

"What do you mean, _gone_?" Clara's voice was quiet.

The Doctor hung his shoulders and ran a hand over his face. "I mean, I went to check on her, and she wasn't in her room. I check in all the other logical places, but still nothing. I go back to her room, and see a note on the bed."

He held out the folded piece of paper to her, and she took it before hesitantly reading it out loud.

" _Dear Dad (and Clara), I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye but I knew you'd stop me. It's been so nice to see you again and I'm going to miss you both a lot when I'm gone. But I need to be with Mum right now and I know that you don't agree so I've had to find away back to her on my own. Love you lots, Charlie."_

"There were books under her bed which would have taught her how to repair Missy's tracker," the Doctor murmured. "And River's old vortex manipulator is missing."

"She's _eight-_ "

"Almost nine, and Gallifreyan with fairly decent schooling and particularly generous genetics in the intelligence department-" The Doctor snorted at his companion's roll of her eyes. "Don't give me that look, Clara, that's not me talking myself up! That's me stating a simple fact which is that the Master is one of the most brilliant children of Gallifrey in history. What Charlie seems to have gotten from me is the improvising, which added to what she's got from her mother, and - well." He spread his hands hopelessly. "Here we are."

"So how do we get her back?" Clara asked, not looking happy with his rather flattering description of Missy.

"I don't think we can."

"What?"

The Doctor threw his hands in the air. "What do you want me to do, Clara? Hunt her down and drag her back here kicking and screaming? She's made her choice, she'd only try again!"

"She's a child, who for all we know has been brainwashed by her mother for several years now, she is _not_ capable of making her own decisions when it comes to this-"

"Maybe not, but I'll not have her resent me for forcing her to be somewhere she doesn't want to be," the Doctor said tiredly. "I'm going to try and contact Missy, make sure Charlie got back to her safe."

Clara clamped her lips together and sat down on the jump seat, visibly upset. The Doctor had no idea how he could comfort her, so instead busied himself sending the message to Missy, his long fingers typing away at the console while his eyes glanced at his companion a few times. He knew she cared about Charlie almost as much as he did and that this couldn't be easy for her.

"...do you think she was really that unhappy here?" She said quietly.

"Of course not," he told her, "She wasn't unhappy here at all. She just...feels like her place is with Missy. That's all."

"But why?"

"She's all Missy has, and she knows that, whereas we have each other." He made a face. "If it were possible, she'd want us all together, because she genuinely cares for all of us."

"Oh," Clara whispered.

It had been less than ten seconds since the Doctor had sent the message when the TARDIS doors slammed open and a furious Missy strode in.

"Do you want to say that one more time, this time to my face, just to be sure that you didn't make some kind of typing error," she said to the Doctor, hands gesturing emphatically.

"Uh," was all he said, having neither expected her to respond so quickly or in this manner.

Her hands were at her sides, their uncommon stillness a warning sign in itself. "Tell me again how you _lost my daughter_ ," she said in a dangerously low tone, eyes flashing.

"Wait, so she's not with you?" Clara asked.

"Does the empty air behind me _look_ like an eight year old child to you?" Missy snapped. "If she were with me, why would I be doing anything other than getting her as far from you two as possible?"

"...then where is she?"

"I. Don't. Know," Missy said, very slowly, eyes shut and annoyance making her whole body tense, "That's why I'm _here_ , to find out exactly what happened so I can go and find her."

"She took River's manipulator, and has been trying to repair your tracker."

"That you deactivated, I imagine," she said, pulling out her small handheld device, "Well, I've got no signal from the tracker, which is hardly surprising given that her education thus far, while substantial, has not yet stretched to cover transtemporal trackers."

"She's been doing research, it would seem," the Doctor told her, making her eyebrow go up.

"Even so," she eventually said, "It's obviously not been enough." She frowned, her fierceness slipping into something more thoughtful. "But she'd have known that, she wouldn't be stupid enough to relying on her ability to fix it, she doesn't have delusions of grandeur, so there has to have been something else. She took the manipulator, she must have had a specific destination in mind."

"She heard us talking," Clara said, a look of horrified realisation on her face, "She knew you were on Galadia's third colony planet."

"Well, she's not there," Missy said, putting her hands on her hips as she turned her attention back to the Doctor, "The moment I got your message I scanned the whole planet to be sure, and got nothing."

"Which means the manipulator is faulty, which makes sense, given its state," the Doctor added.

"But that means she could be _anywhere_ ," Missy told him, spreading her arms, "Anywhere in all of time and space, and we _have no way to find her_."

"We'll find her," he said.

She scowled. "We'd _better_ , because this is entirely on _you_."

"...I know." He ignored Clara's frown, because it _was_ his fault. If he'd not taken her away from Missy in the first place, this never would have happened.

* * *

" _You've been learning ballet?"_

" _Yeah! From Master Fokine."_

" _Mikhail Fokine?"_

" _Yep!"_

_The Doctor looked vaguely impressed, while Clara's face held no recognition. The schoolteacher looked at Charlie and tilted her head._

" _Who's Mikhail Fokine?"_

" _Mum's friend."_

" _20th century Russian ballet teacher and choreographer," the Doctor explained, "Very famous in those circles, and an old friend of Missy's. A friendship that always perplexed me, frankly."_

" _Master Fokine was nice, but his moustache was annoying," Charlie said seriously._

_The Doctor and Clara's laughter echoed through the yellow kitchen they were in, and it made Charlie smile._

Charlie couldn't feel the cold anymore. She also couldn't move, she could only shut her eyes to block out the view of pure white and hope with everything she had that the tracker was working, but with every minute that passed she became more sure that it wasn't.

_Dancing with Clara in the library while the Doctor played through a song from an old jukebox musical and sang alone. The words had made Charlie and Clara laugh because they sounded so odd coming from the Time Lord's mouth._

_The Doctor reading her some old Martian folk tale, and the next night Clara reading her a book called_ Danny The Champion of the World. _She didn't need stories to sleep anymore but found she did like them. Missy never had the patience for such things._

_Warm pancakes covered in sweet syrup, courtesy of her father's surprising culinary skills._

Things on her father's TARDIS had been good. Why had she been so quick to leave? Why hadn't she waited until her plan was more solid? Why hadn't she stopped to think how easily it could have gone wrong?

The questions faded from her mind as everything started to blur, and it became harder to think. The only thing left in her mind was a longing for her mother, a desperate call for help, a cry of apology and need.

And it wasn't long before that faded along with everything else.

* * *

"It's been hours, have you seriously found _nothing_?"

"Do us all a favour, Ozzie, and keep your mouth shut," Missy told Clara scathingly, "There's enough idiocy in the room without you talking."

Clara glared right back at her. "Any ideas are going to be useful right now, given that we're getting nowhere. She could be anywhere, which means anything could have happened to her-" The stupid human stopped talking, a look of horror crossing her face as she apparently only just realised the true gravity of the situation.

"Yes, it could have," Missy snarled, "And if she's dead, Miss Oswald, so will you be, I will personally ensure that."

"It wasn't our-"

"It is a  _miracle_ that I have not already snapped your neck where you stand, so if you have _any_ regard left for your _pathetic_ little existence, shut your wretched mouth right now and let the grown ups talk."

That shut her up. But the satisfaction only lasted a few seconds before Missy was back to worrying about her daughter. She was so worried she couldn't even keep it from showing on her face anymore.

"We'll find her, Koschei," the Doctor said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She flinched away from him. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Thete," she muttered.

He was about to reply when Missy felt a faint call in the back of her mind, a wordless cry of distress that was more unique in its signature than any physical voice.

Charlie.

Her body almost shuddered with relief, and when she finally was able to tune back into her surroundings, the Doctor and Clara were staring at her, no doubt because her gaze had gone blank.

"Missy? Are you alright?" The former asked.

"I will be," she said, before turning around and leaving without another word.

Once back in her TARDIS, it was easy to use the telepathic circuits to pinpoint Charlie's location, even if the signal was weak and actually faded entirely on the way there. She couldn't think about the connotations of that, she simply landed the ship and strode out into the icy landscape.

The thought of Charlie being here for hours was a horrific one, and Missy's hearts pounded as she scanned the landscape.

She almost missed her.

Her tiny body was curled up in the snow, covered in flakes of it that had fallen on her in the meantime. When Missy rushed over to her, her body was cold and she wasn't breathing.

"No," Missy breathed, eyes wide as panic and despair and nausea hit her all at once, "No, no, no, no, no, not again."

Her hands scooped her daughter up, holding her to her body and carrying her in a way she hadn't in years. Once back in the TARDIS, Missy laid Charlie on the infirmary bed and stared at the unmoving, pale form of her daughter.

The scans said that she wasn't dead, but that she was going to be.

" _No!"_ The Time Lady screamed at it, her legs giving out on her. _"Don't you dare tell me that, you infernal machine!"_ The urge was strong to stay on the floor and yell and cry until she was hoarse and out of tears, but that was the weak option. Even as tears tracked down her cheeks, Missy was steeling herself.

She was the Master. And she ate impossibility for breakfast. No device or ice planet was going to decide Charlie's fate. Death was for other people, not her or anyone of her own blood.

She had lost one daughter before. She could not lose this one.

Missy rose to her feet and got to work, moving with a manic but determined energy to do everything in her power to ensure that the machine was wrong. She worked for almost half an hour, but after that there was nothing to do but wait.

She lay on the bed as well, curling her body around Charlie's as if it would keep her safe. It was all she could do to not flinch at how cold she still was despite all of Missy's efforts. Missy's body meanwhile was trembling from head to toe.

"It's going to be okay, kit," she whispered, touching Charlie's hair, "I promise. You're not going anywhere, you're not _allowed_." She drew in a shuddering breath and felt fresh tears sting at her eyes. "You're going to be okay."

For several hours she was perfectly still, as still as her unconscious daughter. Charlie's body seemed warmer, but she couldn't be sure it wasn't just the effect of her own body's proximity to it, and refused to get hopeful about it.

But then the girl stirred, and Missy's hearts which had all but frozen in time instantly thawed and began to properly beat again.

"Charlie?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

Charlie turned over slowly so that she could look at her with sleepy, confused eyes. "Mum?"

"Oh, thank all the stars," Missy breathed, pulling her to her chest and clutching her with all the strength she had. "Kit, don't ever do that to me again. I almost lost you."

"I'm sorry," Charlie sniffed, "I didn't mean to get it wrong."

"I'll do my absolute hardest to ensure it never happens, but given the same choice again, stay with your father, alright?" Missy's hand stroked over her hair. "He and Miss Oswald might be insufferable but at least with them you're safe. I will _always_ come for you, dearest. Next time give me a chance."

Charlie coughed, hard enough that it shook her whole body. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it wasn't your fault. You just rest now."

They stayed like that for a few more hours while Charlie got her strength back before Missy went away and came back with a warm drink for her. Once it had been gulped down, Missy took her by the hand and led her to the console room. She sent a call request through to the Doctor's TARDIS, and it was picked up almost instantly.

" _Did you find her?"_ The Doctor asked desperately.

"Oh, I found her alright," Missy said, her voice flat, "On a planet so desolate it doesn't even have a name, buried in the snow and not breathing. Congratulations, Doctor, your selfishness just lost you a daughter."

" _NO!"_ The Doctor's cry was so horrific, so piercing, that it echoed through Charlie's whole body and she instantly felt sick to her stomach.

"I'm not dead!" She yelled, not knowing why Missy had made him think otherwise but determined to not allow it. "I was in the snow and not breathing but Mum saved me, I'm okay!"

" _Charlie_?" Her father's voice had never been so quiet.

"I'm here, I'm alright," she told him, her voice catching at the thought of him thinking she was dead. There was the sound of muffled sob on the other end of the line, and then Clara's voice.

" _What the_ hell _is wrong with you, you sadistic bitch?!"_ The schoolteacher shouted. _"How could you let him think she was dead, even for a second?"_

"I intended for him to believe it much longer than that," Missy replied coldly, "Because if it were down to only his actions, she would be."

There was a pause.

When Missy spoke again, her voice was flat and dangerously serious. "If either of you try to come near my daughter again, I'll kill you on sight."

With that she cut off the connection and held Charlie to her, murmuring promises to keep her safe, and Charlie could only hug her back and hope that a day would come when her mother's anger faded and she would be able to see her father and Clara again, however briefly.

She had a feeling she might be waiting a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!


	13. The Stinkbomb Mystery of [UNIT Dating Error]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘The Stinkbomb Mystery’ is a long standing source of amusement among UNIT officers, shared with new soldiers and assistants (namely, Sarah Jane Smith) alike. It details the supposedly definitely true story of how the Doctor’s lab became uninhabitable for a week thanks to a particularly effective stinkbomb planted by a mysterious Russian-speaking child who was caught in the act but escaped as easily as she had snuck in despite the most senior members of the facility’s personnel being present. 
> 
> It isn't until many centuries later that the Doctor realises exactly who was in his lab that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is silly and light and timey-wimey as a break from the angst of last chapter. (And I'm really sorry it took so hell, uni has been hellish.) 
> 
> If anyone finds the chapter title half as funny as I do, it was worth it.

" _En garde_!"

Charlie lifted the sword just in time to parry her mother's lunge, and grinned at her success. Missy rolled her eyes.

"Don't get cocky, kit, I'm going easy on you," the Time Lady told her, "And in a real duel, cocky gets you dead."

Charlie nodded and prepared her stance, ready to go again. This time she took to it with more focus, which gave Missy the room to attack more viciously, to the point where Charlie could barely keep up. After about a minute, towards the end of which Charlie had been continuously stepping back to avoid Missy's advances, Charlie's sword went flying out of her hand. Missy's whipped forward, sliding past her cheek so closely that Charlie could feel the air it had pushed out of the way.

Breathing hard, she glanced at the blade that was all but touching her skin. Missy, of course, didn't believe in using practice swords, so it was real - not particularly blunt - steel.

"Dead," Missy said quietly, "Probably a sword right through your eye and into your brain. Again."

They were dressed identically - the same dark blue waistcoat over a pale blouse, with dark leggings tugged into leather boots. The lessons had begun three weeks before, immediately after Charlie had fully recovered from her near death experience. Her ninth birthday had been and gone in that time. They went to Paris and Missy bought her the most obscene cake she could find and they spent the whole day eating it between the two of them.

Nearly losing her daughter had struck up a fierce determination in Missy to ensure that the girl knew how to keep herself safe. In addition to the fencing lessons, Missy had also constructed a new lot of theoretical ones based on how to survive in any given environment. From the stories she told Charlie, surviving no matter the odds or situation was something her mother had - forbidding the pun - become the master of.

As the weeks continued, Charlie slowly but surely became more sure of her fencing footwork, and could feel her arms becoming stronger from holding the weight of the sword.

"Switch," Missy barked, and Charlie barely had time to toss the sword to her other hand before her mother's attack. They duelled for several minutes, before Missy's blade stopped less than a centimetre from Charlie's navel. "Dead."

They started again. Every time it would end the same. _Dead. Dead. Dead, again._ Every time, only the incredibly precise control Missy had over her weapon stopped Charlie from coming to any harm. Any other person attempting the same would have almost definitely run the girl through by now.

Finally, her mother relented and they put the swords away.

"Why don't we do something fun?" She said to her daughter as they returned to the console room, putting her hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure there's some evil or mischief to be had somewhere."

"Fun is good," Charlie replied, "Do you have any ideas?"

"Hold on, kit, I'm thinking." Missy pursed her lips. "I think I'm in the mood for a bit of petty revenge. But I've no interest in seeing your father at the moment, so I don't know how-" Her eyes widened and she started laughing hysterically.

She didn't stop. She just kept laughing, and laughing, and laughing. After over two minutes had passed, a completely bemused Charlie decided that if she didn't intervene, her vaguely insane mother might laugh for days.

"Mum?" She asked tentatively.

"The Grant girl, she _told_ me," Missy managed to say, wiping tears from her eyes, "I had a good laugh about it, but I never dreamed that it was _my_ idea."

Charlie felt the usual mixture of excitement and trepidation that came with hearing one of her mother's plans. "What was your idea?"

"We're going to get your father back for kidnapping you," the Time Lady said, grinning as she straightened up and put her hand on Charlie's shoulder, "Only...a little _early_."

The girl cocked her head with confusion. "What does that mean?"

Missy just chuckled. "Charlie, if I gave you the layout of a vaguely secret government run facility in the 1970's, do you think you could get in undetected?"

Charlie gave the question some serious thought. "Yes, I think so," she finally answered. "Why?"

"You'll see, kit. You'll see. Now, we're going to need a psychic dampener, and a hat to cover your hair. It's memorable, and we want to leave room for you to have your fun with them when you're a bit older. You only get one shot with these sorts of things."

* * *

The Doctor left the Brigadier's office with a swish of his cape and a roll of his eyes, exasperated for the thousandth time with the human man's stubborn nature. He headed back to his lab, hoping that Jo would be inside since her presence was generally guaranteed to improve his mood.

When he entered his lab, however, he did not find Jo Grant. Instead, there was a child wearing a woollen beanie and a dark jumper with their back to him.

"What in Rassilon's name are you doing in here?"

She - at least, he was guessing it was a she despite a lack of any indicators - spun around to face him, and her eyes widened. For at least thirty seconds they just stared at each other. Her ice blue eyes were intelligent and infinitely curious, and in a way the Doctor couldn't pinpoint, _familiar_.

"You're very tall," she said.

The Doctor arched an eyebrow. "Yes, I suppose I am. And you are most certainly not meant to be in here. How did you get in here?" He turned his head so he could call out into the corridor, "Brigadier, is this your idea of a practical joke? Or is your security here so lacking that a small child can find her way in with no obstruction?"

When he looked back, the intruder had turned around to press some buttons on a canister on the bench behind her that up until then the Doctor hadn't noticed.

"What is that?" He asked her sharply. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

The girl spun back to face him, and the moment he took a step towards her, panic flashed across her face and a torrent of rapid, barely coherent Russian fell from her lips. Totally bemused, the Doctor tried to work out what she was attempting to say, but only heard something that sounded as though she was complimenting him on his coat.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," he told her in Russian, "I just want to know what you're doing here?"

Naturally, that was when Jo, Benton, and the Brigadier arrived. "Doctor? What the devil is going on here?" The latter asked.

The Doctor took a single moment to consider that walking in on him trying to calm down to a Russian-speaking child who had infiltrated his laboratory probably _was_ a curious sight, but they weren't the only ones who were confused by all this.

"What's going on is that this child is in my laboratory even though you pride yourself on this place's security," the Doctor snapped, "To say nothing of the incredibly suspicious device she's set up on my counter. I don't suppose this is your idea of a joke, Brigadier? Your sense of humour always did leave something to be desired."

"Suspicious device?" Jo repeated. "But Doctor, she's just a little girl."

"And I can assure you, Doctor, that I have better things to do than smuggle mysterious children into my headquarters for the sake of a practical joke," the Brigadier said.

The little girl's panic had morphed into something altogether different. She started giggling and reached into her pocket. A Russian farewell left her lips, and she had the gall to blow him a kiss with her free hand.

Whatever she pulled from her pocket, when she dropped it the room filled with black smoke, making the adults shout with alarm. Blindly, the Doctor tried to make a grab for the girl based on the assumption that she was heading for the door. Whether his assumption was wrong or she had simply been successful in evading him, his hands met nothing but empty air.

By the time the smoke cleared, the members of UNIT were left bemused, the girl nowhere in sight. The smoke left an odd taste in the air, and the Doctor inhaled it deeply only to be even more floored by what he discovered.

"Plutonian 'darkness powder'," he said, amazed. "She wasn't just any child, she was a child with access to off-world methods of subterfuge."

"Still think I had something to do with this, Doctor?" The Brigadier asked, lifting an eyebrow. "My supply of children trained in alien espionage is rather low this month."

"Sorry, Doctor, but didn't you say something about her having a suspicious device in here?" Benton asked the Doctor.

The Doctor had forgotten, and raced towards the canister just as the top flew off and thick yellow fumes poured out of it. He got a full blast of it in his face and it was so putrid in its smell that he nearly choked. Behind him, the humans started coughing and dry gagging. They bolted out of the room and slammed the door behind them, locking the horrendous smell in the lab.

" _What_ was that?" The Brigadier demanded as soon as they had all gulped down some clean air. "If that's a chemical breach, Geneva will have my-"

"Save your breath, Brigadier, it's nothing more than a very potent stinkbomb," the Doctor told him shortly.

"And how could you _possibly_ be sure of that? Benton, put out a search for that girl, she can't have gotten far, I want her _found-_ "

"Because I inhaled a fair bit of it, and have a very distinguished palette for these sorts of things."

The Brigadier stared at him with disbelief, eyebrows nearly blending with his hairline. "You know, I never can be sure when you're joking."

"The only joke around here, Brigadier, is apparently your security," the Time Lord told his friend, not half cross, "A young girl just waltzed in here with a stinkbomb of likely extraterrestrial origin, and Plutonian darkness powder in her pockets. What kind of secret government facility are you running here, man?"

"Look here, Doctor, her only target appears to have been your office, so as far as I'm concerned, this matter falls on _you_ ," the Brigadier said, taking a step towards him and frowning deeply, "My men are perfectly competent, but they can't be expected to deal with every possible form of alien trickery-"

"Funnily enough, I was under the impression that that was their job!"

" _You're_ the one that brings half of the nonsense raining down on us, Doctor-"

"I do _what_?!"

The two became so caught up in their argument that they didn't notice Jo watching them and chuckling like a child at the cinema before eventually slinking off to see if Benton and the others had had any luck.

Due to the shouting, no one heard the laughter coming from a nearby supply closet that lasted for about fifteen seconds before cutting off abruptly.

No one was particularly surprised when the search of the facility and grounds for the girl came up with absolutely nothing. It took a whole week for it to be bearable for anyone to enter the Doctor's lab.

Over the centuries he forgot about it, though apparently it was a favourite story of the UNIT soldiers that those who arrived after it happened could never be entirely sure if it was true.

* * *

Charlie materialised outside a cafe in 1980's Nice, and found her mother inside nursing a strong black coffee. She gave Charlie money to order something for herself, in very hesitant French because the TARDIS translation circuits were turned off whenever the ship landed on Earth.

Once she had her hot chocolate and pulled her beanie off to let her hair fall free, she launched into telling her mother all about what had happened.

Missy was positively beaming. "Perfect! Absolutely perfect, exactly as I remember her telling me."

"He was very tall," Charlie said.

Something flashed through her mother's eyes, that strange heat that the nine year old had yet to identify. "Yes, he was," the Time Lady murmured, touching a finger to her crimson lips absently. "He's so often tall. It's quite one of my favourite things about him. If we're being superficial, which I utterly am at the moment. Yes, that Doctor was one of my very favourites."

"What are your other favourites?"

"The celery one," Missy said, fondly, "Oh, how that one _blushed_. And the current one. I do so love the accent and the eyebrows."

"So what now?"

"Well, I was thinking we could go to the beach, and then possibly overthrow a small city somewhere in the Horsehead Nebula before tea."

Charlie nodded eagerly. "Sounds good!" She tried to gulp some of her hot chocolate, only to burn her tongue and wince. "Ow."

Missy tsked. "Careless. The temperature's in the name, you know."

"I know," the girl said defensively, "I just forgot."

"What's the point in knowing something if you forget?"

"You forget things all the time. You nearly killed Mikhail three times because you took us places with things that are deadly to humans," Charlie told her, frowning.

Missy arched an eyebrow at her, as if surprised that she was talking back to her. "Hm." She frowned and shrugged minutely . "I suppose that's true, actually. Funny what can slip your mind."

She started laughing at herself, and Charlie grinned. Her mother _was_ a hypocrite, but generally listened when it was pointed out to her.

Charlie relished the tiny look of surprise on her face every time.

* * *

In the week following Charlie's departure and near death, the Doctor and Clara had been a bit unsure of how to act around each other, both of them needing to deal with it in their own ways. But slowly they were returning to their usual routine and dynamic.

"You worrying about Charlie?" Clara asked him sympathetically when she found him staring blankly at a bookshelf across the room from where he was sitting in his armchair.

He rubbed his brow. "I'm always worrying about Charlie. But at the same time, she's safe with Missy. At least physically."

"I'm just surprised she hasn't tried to exact any kind of revenge on us." She made a face. "Other than the whole trying to make us think Charlie was dead thing."

"Revenge would mean letting Charlie near us, which is the opposite of what she wants right now," he said tiredly, "Of course if there was a way she could manage it without getting near us-"

He trailed off, an extremely odd look creeping onto his face. For a moment he was completely still, eyebrows furrowed above widening blue eyes.

"Oh for _fuck's_ sake!"

Clara jumped nearly out of her skin at his exclamation but he was too busy swearing profusely and cursing Missy's name in a dozen different languages to pay her any mind.

"Doctor? What is it?" She asked him with alarm.

"Of all the things she could do," he said, shaking his head, "I couldn't get in there for a _week_! And it was Charlie. I was looking at my own daughter and I didn't even know it."

"Doctor, what are you talking about?"

"Not now, Clara, I have to call Benton," he muttered before hurrying out of the library.

Clara gave him about ten seconds for a head start before quietly following, creeping into the console room and staying hidden so that she could eavesdrop on the phone conversation he had just started up.

"Benton, it's me," he was saying, "The Doctor. Yes, I'm Scottish now. That's not important - Benton, I've solved the Stinkbomb Mystery."

 _Stinkbomb Mystery?_ Clara's lips formed the words as she frowned with utter confusion.

"I know, after all this time. So it turns out, that little girl was, well...my daughter. And put up to it by her mother." The Doctor was rubbing his eye sheepishly with his finger. "Who...may or not be the Master, which I know probably sounds completely insane, but - Benton, stop laughing. Benton, this isn't _funny_ , you should be _horrified_ to know that I-"

There was a brief pause, and the comical look of horror that came over the Doctor's face was downright hilarious.

"You were _betting_ on us?!" He shouted. "On me. And the Master. How could you possibly have known, we're enemies - no it _wasn't_ obvious, it can't have been! We were very - okay, fine, but that was only _one_ time. Two at most."

Another pause, and Clara had to admit that maybe 'old friend' didn't quite cover what she had assumed about the Doctor and Missy's relationship. As much as she hated it, there was something _unbreakable_ between them and thinking anything else was probably delusional.

All she could do was hope that the Doctor's morality would continue to hold out where it counted, for the most part.

"Well, congratulations on the twenty pounds you'll be able to get off the Brigadier. Tell Jo that she ought to be ashamed of herself, profiting from gossip. But, uh, do me a favour and don't tell anyone you don't have to, yeah? It's...not really my finest moment. Bad for the rep, fraternising with the enemy, all of that. You know what the military is like."

Clara snorted.

"Anyway, next time you do a poker night, I'm there, probably, maybe," he said, "Just make sure you get the _year_ on the invite this time-"

The TARDIS doors burst open and the sound of blaster fire filled their ears. The Doctor jumped a mile and hung up on Benton with the most hurried farewell of all time. When a figure sprinted inside the console room a moment later and slammed the doors behind them, Clara emerged from the shadows and hurried up to the console platform to get a look at the new arrival.

"I take back _anything_ I ever said about your timing," said a girl in her mid teens with a bulky backpack on her back as she got her breath back. She was grinning at the Doctor, who was staring at her with shock. "That was...way too close, even by our standards."

She was skinny and dressed in ripped jeans and a Bowie t-shirt, a leather jacket tied around her waist. It wasn't until she pushed her mane of unruly dark curls out of her face that Clara saw the incredibly familiar angular features and pale blue eyes and felt a sense of alarm.

_No way, she couldn't be...could she? That face..._

The teenager seemed unnerved by the silence she was being met with, and her gaze flicked from the Doctor to Clara with vague confusion. Something about whatever she saw in Clara made her groan.

"Shit, I'm too early, aren't I?" She asked, with a faint Scottish accent. "Your hair's still long."

"Fucking hell you look like your mother," the Doctor said, his expression having softened slightly even though he was still just staring at her with bemusement.

"Oh my god, you really are," Clara breathed. "You're Charlie."

Charlie, an older version who they definitely weren't supposed to be meeting, grinned at them. "The one and only."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! This story needed a fix of teen!Charlie but I couldn't just skip over the incredibly crucial years that get her there, so this solution presented itself and I know it's going to be a LOT of fun. Twelve, Clara, and you guys are in for an...interesting ride.
> 
> She's her mother's daughter, that's all I'll say.


	14. Sneak Peek: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen year old Charlie is....everything they probably should have expected her to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and next chapter will cover this encounter with older!Charlie, before things go back to the more linear story. I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into the fic's future!

_"Oh my god, you really are," Clara breathed. "You're Charlie."_

_Charlie, an older version who they definitely weren't supposed to be meeting, grinned at them. "The one and only."_

For a moment, there was just silence. Then the Doctor surged forward and wrapped Charlie in a stiff, but bone-crushing hug. It was the first time Clara could remember him hugging _anyone_ , but then he hadn't seen his daughter since he had spent several seconds thinking that she was dead.

Charlie's arms had automatically gone around his waist, but she was as stiff as he was, alarm all over her face.

"Okay, I swear you didn't start doing the hugging thing until way later than this," Charlie said with great unease. "Is there something I'm missing? How old was I when you last saw me?"

"Eight," Clara said, as the Doctor finally let go of Charlie and ducked his head, embarrassed and moving to fiddle with the console.

Charlie's eyes widened. " _Oh_." She approached her father, and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm...sorry about that, Dad."

"Wasn't your fault," he muttered.

"It wasn't anyone's fault, that doesn't mean it wasn't utterly shit," Charlie said. "Just remember whose kid I am. I always make it, just like you."

The Doctor nodded, his expression finally softening. His eyebrows went up as he regarded her, lingering on the unruly hair, leather jacket, and the Bowie shirt. "So, this is...you."

Charlie cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Can't tell if that's disapproval or not."

He shrugged. "It's as good as anything." An odd look crossed his face. "What's in that bag of yours, by the way? It felt round. You got a ball in there?"

His daughter smiled, in a way that made her look so eerily like Missy that Clara nearly shivered. "Uh, best you don't know. Because….foreknowledge. You know." They frowned at her, and she ignored it and took the backpack off her back, setting it down near the door gingerly enough to only make them more curious as to its contents. "So, I don't suppose you could drop me back to Mum? As funny as this is, probably not best for me to hang around.

"No, but you could stay for a little while, surely," the Doctor said, "Just a day or so." When she looked unsure, he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "Please, kit, I get to see you so rarely, and after last time-"

The girl's eyes softened, and she swallowed hard. "Yeah. Okay."

"So how old are you now?" Clara asked her.

"Fifteen," Charlie said, while she took out a phone and checked it, barely glancing at the schoolteacher as she did so.

"And like all teenagers, attached to your phone," Clara said, grinning.

"Sounding dangerously close to _wah wah technology bad_ there, Oswald," Charlie replied, smirking until whatever she saw on the phone screen made her smile more genuinely. She tapped out a reply before putting the phone back in her pocket. "So, what did you guys want to do? Rob a bank? Go for a picnic? Watch the final night of the original cast of Hamilton? I'm open to suggestions."

"Rob a lot of banks, do you?" Her father asked.

She grinned. "I know _you've_ hit a few in your time."

"Fair point," Clara laughed. "But why do I get the feeling when it's more something you tend to do with Missy than with us?"

"First time for everything." Charlie's eyes lit up. "Can we go to a live chess tournament?"

Clara blinked. "Seriously? _That's_ your idea of fun? Watching a chess match? I don't know if I'm disappointed or relieved."

"Uh, yeah, I get to eat Gamma tofu burritos while watching people get electrocuted for fucking up their chess strategy, it's _great_ ," Charlie said seriously.

" _Live_ chess, Clara," the Doctor said with a sigh, shooting a disapproving look at his daughter.

"Oh," the human replied, alarmed by the thought. "Weird."

"Seriously, I really want one of those burritos, those guys back there were trying to starve me out," Charlie told them, "I haven't eaten in at least twenty hours. Besides, Clara's obviously never seen a live chess match. It'll be an experience. The tournament on Mona is pretty much continuous. Come on, Dad. Please?"

"You just told me you find it amusing to watch people get electrocuted," he said, frowning at her, "Do you expect me to _support_ that pastime?"

"I only meant the gross arrogant ones," she said, shrugging, "I mostly like the food and the chess."

The Doctor regarded her curiously for a few moments, before giving her a funny smile of relief. "Well, thank goodness for that. You were sounding far too much like your mother." He didn't see Charlie wince a little as he turned back to the console, but Clara did. "If Clara's interested in seeing a chess match, I don't see why we couldn't go."

Charlie turned a hopeful look on Clara, who knew instantly she wouldn't be able to say no to her.

"Sure, it'll be...interesting, I guess," she said, "Chess with electricity, only sounds a _little_ bit terrifying."

* * *

Clara wasn't sure what she had expected the live chess arena to look like, but the place was like an underground fighting pit. She half-expected to see battling robots or gladiators down on the ground instead of the large chess board and chairs that took up the center of the space.

The people wouldn't have looked out of place at an 80's punk concert (the human ones, at least). They leaned over the arena railings with their cups of mud-coloured alcohol and shouted various taunts at the duo currently playing.

It was dirty and sleazy and the fact that Charlie seemed completely at ease was incredibly disturbing.

"Masters, hey!" An alien who looked like a blowfish approached them, grinning at Charlie and bumping her fist. "It's been a while. Who are the stiffs?"

"Sid, this is my dad, the Doctor, and his friend Clara," Charlie told him, "Clara's never watched a match before. Thought we'd give her a taste."

"Wicked," Sid said, nodding with approval, "Well, enjoy!"

"Thanks," Clara replied.

As Sid moved off through the crowd, the Doctor glowered at his daughter. "You're not seriously using that ridiculous surname your mother came up with, are you?"

"Well, it's better than _Smith_ ," Charlie snorted. "Come on, let's find a burrito vendor so we can get a good spot."

Once the teenager had her coveted snack - which didn't look half disgusting in Clara's opinion - the trio found a place along the railing and looked down at the game. There was also a huge screen showing the camera's zoomed in view of the board.

"Ooh, they're both in trouble," Charlie said with a grin, before taking another bite of her burrito.

The Doctor frowned. "You sound _far_ too pleased by that."

Charlie finished chewing and swallowed before replying. "I know them both personally, and they're dickheads. Like, seriously. So obnoxious. The one with the spikes is called Dex the Decimator."

"That's such a bad name," Clara said, wincing.

"So bad. He got really mad when I just laughed the first time he introduced himself to me."

"Do you really come here so often that you know everyone?" The Doctor asked. She just shrugged. "On your own? Or was this your mother's idea?"

"Hell no, she won't come within two parsecs of this place, she can't stand all the dirt," Charlie laughed, "It's _my_ thing."

"You're _fifteen_. They shouldn't even let minors in here."

"They don't, we have to apply for a special pass to be allowed in without an adult. And we're not allowed the alcohol. Not that it's regulated super well, to be fair, but I don't drink anyway."

"That's good," Clara said, nudging her shoulder and smiling. "Plenty of time for that when you're older."

"Exactly," Charlie agreed, "Besides, my mum murders people for a living, teen rebellion for me tends to be stuff like helping old people cross streets."

"Do you actually do that?" Clara had to laugh.

"Well, yeah, they're old," Charlie said seriously, "I'm psychopath spawn, but I'm not _heartless_." Another odd laugh escaped Clara, but she sobered quickly as the _psychopath spawn_ part set in. She could see the Doctor looking similarly uncomfortable.

"Don't say that," Clara said, biting her lip.

"Say what?" Charlie only seemed to half be listening, her eyes intent on the match.

" _Psychopath spawn_. It's not a nice thing to call yourself."

Charlie turned to look at her, something flashing through her eyes that Clara couldn't quite pinpoint. Confusion? Discomfort? It was gone in an instant and a moment later the girl was grinning and bumping her shoulder.

"It was just a joke, Oswald. Lighten up."

One of the men playing chess touched a particularly charged piece and spasmed violently. The crowd cheered, Charlie enthusiastically joining them. He still managed to move the piece, just, but sat back in a daze when he was done.

Five minutes later, he was escorted out on a stretcher and Dex the Decimator was raising his hands with triumph.

"As fun as that was to watch, I was really hoping to see Dex lose," Charlie said with a disappointed sigh. "Oh well."

"This game is barbaric," Clara said, horrified.

"I won one of these once," the Doctor said absently, "Well, actually I lost deliberately to save my opponent from certain death so he'd give me information on the religion hell bent on killing me, but same difference."

"What?" Charlie and Clara asked simultaneously.

Before he could elaborate, an announcer had stepped into the arena, a lanky masculine figure with two heads and pale yellow skin.

"And now, we have the first official match of our newest league member!" He told the crowd, who responded with a mix of cheers and boos. "Please welcome, Miss Charlie Masters!"

"Oh no," the Doctor said.

"Oh yes," Charlie laughed. "Why do you think I wanted you to come? Mum won't come here, I wanted you to be here for my first real match."

The Doctor took her by the shoulders and looked her right in the eye. "Charlie, live chess is _dangerous_ , if you think I will just stand up here and watch you get electrocuted-"

"Dad, it's fine, I've practiced with Mum loads, I'm not in any danger," she told him calmly, "I'm good. Really good. You don't need to worry."

"The last time I saw you, you nearly died, Charlie," the Doctor insisted, "Please try and understand it from my perspective."

"I do," Charlie told him, "Which is why you need to see that I'm a big girl who can take care of herself. Now sit tight, and be ready to be proud." She untied her jacket from her waist and put it on as she headed for the lift that Dex the Decimator was just leaving.

The Doctor and Clara watched her go with dismay. "You don't have to do _this_ to make me proud!" The Doctor shouted after her. She shook her head and smiled as the lift doors closed.

Charlie entered the arena at the same time a hulking red alien came in from the other side. They came to face each other, seizing each other up.

"Little Miss Masters," Charlie's opponent sneered. "It's not too late to back out."

"Oh, I was so hoping it would be you, Offy," Charlie told him with a grin. "I've always wondered what it would be like to see a Dathron cry."

"I feel sick," Clara said as the two players sat down at the reset board.

"She doesn't even have a gauntlet," the Doctor groaned, and Clara had to guess he meant the metal glove covering one of Offy's hands. "I can't do this, Clara. She's fifteen _and_ she's nine, she can't expect me to be okay with this."

"Do you want to hold my hand?" Clara asked. She was only half joking. He snorted and turned his attention back to the match.

To their relief, something quickly became apparent. Charlie wasn't overconfident. She _was_ good. Every single move had Offy looking angrier and more anxious, while Charlie was chewing a piece of bubblegum and popping it like two of her pieces weren't crackling with visible electricity.

"Mate in ten," the Doctor murmured after about fifteen minutes.

"To her?"

"Of course. She's got her mother's skill, that's for sure. And mine."

"And the modesty too, clearly." Clara frowned when he didn't reply and continued to watch the match with tension seizing his shoulders. "Doctor, if she's close to winning, why are the attack eyebrows ready to go?"

"Because she needs to use the kingside rook, and she's already moved it seven times," he told her.

"That's bad, isn't it?"

"Every piece on the board has a 0.1 amplitude, and starts at a quarter of a volt charge," the Doctor explained, "Every time you move it, the voltage quadruples. Which starts off fine, but gets worse every move. Twelve moves means more than four million volts. With that level of current, that voltage could kill anyone, even a Time Lord."

"Seven times is 4,096 volts," Clara said, making a face, "That sounds bad."

"Anything higher than 600 can cause burns."

"Oh god."

When it came to moving the rook as the Doctor had foreseen, Charlie hesitated, and took a deep breath. Her fingertips closed around the piece and her other hand clenched hard as she moved it across the board and let go of it as quickly as she could.

Offy stared at her with amazement as she smiled at him.

Charlie won the game five moves later. The Doctor relaxed mostly as the crowd cheered, at least until Charlie threw her hands up in the air to wave at the crowd, revealing the nasty burn on the hand she had used to move the rook.

"Wait, but-" Clara stared. "She barely flinched, and we can see that from _here_."

The Doctor's jaw set into a firm line. When Charlie came out of the elevator, beaming, Clara laid a hand on the Doctor's arm when she saw him open his mouth to reprimand her. He glanced at her, confused, and that was when Charlie reached them.

"Did you see that?" She asked, practically bouncing on her toes. "I _demolished_ him, ha!" Her face fell slightly when she took in her father's expression. "Oh come on, seriously? This is about the hand, isn't it? It's fine-"

He grabbed her wrist, turning it until the burn was face up and visible. Clara winced. It was ugly and red and looked immensely painful.

"This is _not_ fine, not for a fifteen year old, not for a father to have to see on his daughter," the Doctor said seriously.

She snatched her hand back. "I'm not a kid, okay, I can make my own dumb decisions. I've had worse than a dumb burn."

"Yeah, not helping," Clara said, frowning at her.

Charlie looked between them incredulously. "I don't know what I expected," she said, scowling, "I just wanted to share this with you guys, wanted you to see how good I was, but obviously I was deluding myself to think you'd ever be proud of me for anything I do."

She pushed past them back in the direction of the TARDIS.

"Wait, Charlie," the Doctor called after her, grabbing Clara's hand and pulling her through the crowd after the teenager. "Where are you going?"

"To fix up my hand, because I don't need you being stupid and overprotective, I can take care of myself," Charlie shouted, and they didn't catch up to her until they reached the TARDIS and followed her into the console room.

"Charlie, I'm your dad, worrying about you is _my job_ ," the Doctor told her, sighing.

"I get that, but couldn't you have waited five seconds and just told me _well done_ first?" Charlie asked. "I wanted you to see. How good I was, that I can handle myself. I just...wanted you to be proud of me."

The Doctor's expression softened, and he reached out to take her cheek in his large hand. Her eyes watched him apprehensively. "Charlie, of course I'm proud of you. That was one _hell_ of a match. It was incredible. But dad reflexes mean freaking out about burns first, compliments second."

Charlie smiled widely and hugged him. He took a moment to respond to it but tentatively hugged her back. Clara gave him a thumbs up while Charlie couldn't see.

"See, and now I'll let you fix my hand," Charlie said, grinning.

The three of them headed to the infirmary, where the Doctor dutifully took to cleaning the wound and patching it up. Charlie was back on her phone, texting until it started ringing and she picked up the phone.

"Hey!" She answered, more brightly than she had said anything all day. "Yeah, I won, just like I said I would!"

"Is that your mother?" The Doctor asked, and Charlie glanced at him and shook her head.

"Oh, that's just my dad - yes, he's real and I didn't just make him up. Hang on, I'll put you on speaker." She hit a button on the phone and held it in front of her. "Devan, say hi to Dad and Clara. Dad and Clara, say hi to Devan."

" _Nice to make your acquaintance_ ," a masculine voice said on the other end of the line.

"Same here," Clara said at the same time that the Doctor said, "And you."

" _Now, tell me truthfully, did she get hurt during the match_?" Devan asked. " _She'll never tell me, she knows I worry."_

"You and me both," the Doctor replied, snorting, "A rook burnt her hand, but it's going to heal just fine. I'm impressed, actually, zero squirming."

"I'm a good patient," Charlie said innocently, smiling at her father, "Which Devan knows, actually. They held my hand this one time that Mum had to dig a bullet out of my arm-"

"What?!" The Doctor and Clara exclaimed with horror.

She rolled her eyes. "It was only a little one, it was fine. Misunderstanding with some Nazis. You know how Mum gets. One minute she's flirting with them, the rest they're firing at us."

"I'm starting to think this body gave itself grey hair just to save time," the Doctor muttered.

" _I'm fortunate to not have hair, in this instance, I think,"_ Devan agreed, their voice a mix of exasperated and fond.

"You love me really," Charlie said into the phone, smiling widely.

" _Yes, I do. And I miss you. Come see me when you've checked back in with your mother?"_

"Of course. Look, I'll call you later, okay?"

" _Okay. Hurry back_." There was another word after that, an alien one that Clara didn't understand, but whatever it was had the Doctor's eyebrows skyrocketing.

"Love you."

" _Love you too_."

Charlie hung up, a sappy smile still on her face, before she looked up and saw her father's expression. "What?"

"They just called you-" He said the strange word.

"Yes."

"So the two of you are-"

"Yes," Charlie said, smirking.

"What?" Clara asked, thinking she could guess what they meant but not wanting to assume given that they _were_ aliens.

"Charlie seems to have a-" The Doctor hesitated. "What's a gender neutral word for boyfriend?"

"There isn't one, because English is a stupid language obsessed with binaries," Charlie said with annoyance, rolling her eyes, "I sometimes go for datemate or cuddle buddy, but they both sound a bit ridiculous. Luckily, given that they have six different genders, Devan's language has the appropriate terminology so we usually just use that."

"Ah," the Doctor said, nodding.

"It's really hard to imagine you dating anyone," Clara admitted, "Mainly because you were eight the last time we saw you."

"I'm assuming your mother knows about this?" The Doctor asked.

"Yeah, they get along with her pretty well," Charlie said, "They gang up on me, actually. I'd almost say that Mum likes Devan _too_ much."

"You said you're fifteen, now?"

"Yep."

"So, has your mother talked to you about, well-" The Doctor turned red when Charlie and Clara lifted their eyebrows at him. "You know. Stuff. Stuff that can happen when you're romantically involved with-"

"Oh my god," Charlie exclaimed, eyes widening and an expression that was a hybrid of horror and delight dawning on her face, "Dad, do not try and give me a sex talk. Please. For both our sakes."

"Well, it's important-"

"You don't even know what species Devan is," Charlie pointed out, and then laughed when he started trying to say something about 'basic rules that apply over most humanoids', "Dad. Dad. _Dad_! Stop. I'm asexual!"

He stopped dead. "Oh. Really?"

" _So_ asexual," she said adamantly, "You don't need to worry about me, okay?" He nodded, and Clara couldn't contain her giggles. Charlie smirked. "Besides, Mum already gave me the sex talk. The several hundred species inclusive version, because _you never know what might change with regeneration and I won't have my child unprepared_."

The Doctor looked about as horrified as Clara felt. "I hate to think. It couldn't have waited a few years?"

"Apparently not," Charlie said glumly, "She tied me to a chair and put me in front of a projector screen to force me to listen because I kept trying to leave. There were demonstrations. It was incredibly scarring. And somewhat ironic that she was trying to tell me about safe sex when _I_ exist."

Clara found herself laughing, even though really she felt a bit ill.

"Can we talk about something else now," the Doctor said, looking green, "I think that's enough talk about sex for the next twenty years."

"Agreed," Charlie said with distaste, "So, what do you think? Monopoly? Or Risk?"


	15. Sneak Peek: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is troubled by what he is able to learn about Charlie's future, but it isn't all bad, perhaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm extremely sorry for the extended absence I ended up taking from this fic. I got completely caught up in my Class fic, because hot morally questionable space ladies are just my Type and Quill feels like she was created according to my exact interests when it comes to characters, so... yeah.
> 
> But now series 10's Twissy content has finally kicked my muse back into gear. I really want to get to Charlie being a part of that plot, but have a looong way to go before I get to that, so here I am, finally finishing the chapter I had started so long ago.
> 
> Excited to be back! I hope you guys like the chapter, and getting more of a taste of teen!Charlie.

To everybody's surprise, Clara won Monopoly.

"I'm sure I used to be good at this," Charlie muttered. "Didn't I beat you two back when I was eight? Right before that big shitstorm? I'm sure I'm remembering that right."

"Trust me, I couldn't imagine that embarrassment of an afternoon," the Doctor said, making a face.

"I dunno, I could imagine plenty of things more embarrassing than that, because we've lived through at least half of them," Clara retorted.

"Those space snails were not my fault," he said, with the tone of voice that made it clear this was not the first time he had felt the need to defend this point. Charlie arched an eyebrow at him and he shook his head at her. "God, you look like your mother when you do that."

"Thank you," she said, smiling. As they went about packing up the board, her phone went off. "Oh my god. Speaking of the devil herself, look at this."

She showed them a picture, a selfie being taken by Missy of the Time Lady with her arm around the waist of a tall, blue, reptilian figure with a triple bumped ridge along the back of their scaled head.

"Is that Devan?" The Doctor asked.

"Yeah," Charlie replied, smiling.

The part that weirded out Clara was that Devan seemed completely at ease in the picture - reptilian features or no, there didn't seem to be any indicator that they were nervous about being so close to the Queen of Evil.

"They look pretty chummy with your mum. Like, weirdly chummy. I know you said she liked them, but it's still weird."

"You know, she's not actually quite as cold blooded as Devan," Charlie said, and when they just stared at her, sighed. "Fine, don't appreciate my excellent reptilian biology joke. Your loss."

They headed to one of the kitchens to have lunch, and Clara took up doing some marking while she ate her sandwich. The Doctor and Charlie settled themselves at the other end of the table and struck up a debate about chess techniques.

It wasn't long before Clara groaned. "God, I forgot how much I hate fifteen year olds." When Charlie just cocked an eyebrow at her, she added, "Present company excluded, of course."

Charlie snorted. "Please, don't insult me, I take great pride in being the fifteen year old you hate above all others," she said, and Clara laughed.

"Right, because I'd ever be able to hate you," she said, only to falter when she saw the awkward look now on Charlie's face. "Wait. No. I don't, do I? I couldn't, I wouldn't-"

Charlie rolled her eyes and took another bite of her sandwich. "It was just a joke, Oswald. Don't worry about it."

"Was it?" The Doctor asked, his brows furrowed.

Clara certainly wasn't convinced. "Charlie-" She tried to reach out to the girl, only for her to automatically snatch her hand out of reach. Rejection stabbed Clara in the gut.

"Are you okay, kit?"

"It's just weird," Charlie said to her dad, smiling tightly. "The two of you. I'd… forgotten."

"Weird how?"

At the same time, Clara asked, "Forgotten what?"

Charlie shook her head and grinned. "Don't worry about it. Teen angst, is all. What could you expect from fifteen year old me? Come on, there's got to be something more interesting to discuss."

The Doctor's eyes lit up, and his expression turned into one of reprimanding. "Actually, yeah. I'd like to have a few words with you about a certain stinkbomb."

Charlie burst out laughing. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. That was a fun day."

"I couldn't get into my office for a week!"

"Cry me a river," Charlie said wryly. "If you're looking for sympathy on that, the Master's daughter is the _wrong_ place to look."

He snorted. "Fair point."

They went back to eating, until Charlie's phone started ringing. When she looked at the screen and frowned at the caller ID, the Doctor lifted an eyebrow at her as she picked up the phone and put it to her ear.

"Dorium, to what do I owe the pleasure?" The sweetness in her voice was cloying and fake and didn't match the eye roll that came a moment later. When she spoke again, her voice was back to normal, albeit exasperated. "Look, I _needed_ those. I'll pay you back when I get something good, you know I will."

"What are you doing with Dorium?" The Doctor asked. "He's _decapitated_."

"He's got a media chip in his head, he just manages everything remotely now," Charlie replied, shrugging, before turning her attention back to the phone, "No, I won't bring Tango any Slitheen claws - because chopping them off is more trouble than it's worth. Besides, I don't like him. You haven't been giving me and Mum nearly enough good stuff for it to be worth my spending another second in his presence - no, he's got hands like an octopus, I'm not overreacting - you know what, fuck off."

She hung up, irritation practically shaking her whole body.

"Who's this Tango fellow? It sounds like he and I need to have words about appropriate behaviour around women, and especially underage girls," the Doctor said darkly, and Clara felt a wave of protectiveness, definitely agreeing with him.

Charlie smirked. "Down, Dad. I broke his arm and hand in five places, he learnt his lesson."

His and Clara's eyebrows shot up.

"Nice," Clara said, impressed.

The Doctor nodded, but looked troubled as well. "Yeah, good job. Not that I support violence, of course, but-"

"Well, you'll be glad to know the arm and hand breaking was the milder of the two things I considered," Charlie said darkly, while her fingers ripped apart the crusts of her sandwich.

"Actually, I'm not sure I am," the Doctor said, frowning at her.

Charlie rolled her eyes again. "Fine." She got up from the table and made to leave the kitchen. "I'll be in my room."

"Charlie-"

She was already gone. Clara looked at the Doctor, who was watching the empty doorway with a slightly pained expression. She felt a faint jolt of anger at Charlie, for leaving over something so minor.

"She can't be mad at you for not applauding her being violent," Clara said, frowning and getting up from her seat. "I'm going to go and talk to her."

"No, this is between her and me," the Doctor said as he got up. "I'll go."

* * *

The Doctor headed for Charlie's room, only to stop outside the door when he heard the sound of a guitar, and faint singing. After listening through the door for about twenty seconds, he opened the door and popped his head around it.

Charlie was sitting on her bed, acoustic guitar in her lap, and looked at him while continuing to play and sing some song he didn't recognise. Her voice was low and husky, surprisingly so for someone so young.

"You're musical," he said. She gave him a look that plainly said _no shit, Dad_. "You're… you're pretty good."

"Well, my guitar playing won't win me any awards just yet, but yeah, I can get by with chords mostly," Charlie replied, shrugging. "Maybe one day you can teach me the fancier stuff."

"I'd love to," the Doctor said seriously. "Please tell me that I'm the one who taught you the basics."

Charlie smiled. "Duh. Though I'm usually more of a ukulele girl, and I taught that to myself."

He lifted his eyebrows at her, surprised. "Ukulele, huh? Got to admit, I didn't see that coming." He ran his eyes over her again. "Doesn't quite fit the aesthetic you've got going on here."

"My aesthetic is nothing without a bit of the unexpected," Charlie said with a grin, making him chuckle.

"Oh yeah, you're definitely my daughter."

Charlie looked down, strumming a new chord with her focus on the guitar. "You don't always seem so sure of that, let's be honest."

"Well, you're different to the Charlie I'm familiar with, it's going to take some adjustment."

"... I didn't mean _you_. Not yet."

"... oh." The Doctor didn't like the implications of that at all. Surely no matter what, he could always be sure that his daughter knew he loved her? "Kit, I can't know what the future holds, but no matter what happens, I'll never-"

"Don't," Charlie interrupted, swallowing hard. "Just, don't. It hasn't happened for you yet. And up until the moment it does, whatever you're about to say might be true, but after, it won't be."

"What hasn't happened?" The Doctor asked. When she just lifted an eyebrow at him, he sighed with frustration. "I know you can't tell me but… I guess there's a thing. That happens. And it… what, it changes things, between us?"

Charlie wasn't strumming anymore. Her hands were shaking and she was holding the guitar closer to her chest. The Doctor gently took it from her, setting it aside so that he could turn her to look at him.

"Charlie… _nothing_ will change the fact that I am your father, and that I love you more than you will ever know," he told her, brushing hair from her face so he could look her in the eye properly. "I'm more sure of that than I've been of anything in my entire life, kit."

Charlie buried her face in his chest, clutching at him, and he could feel her release a single sob against his shirt. "You're wrong, it-"

"No matter how angry or upset I might be with you in the future, kit, no matter what my actions might have led you to believe, my loving you will _never_ change. I guarantee that no matter what my future self has said or done, whatever he's led you to believe-"

"No," Charlie said, voice muffled by the shirt, her hands clutching at him tighter.

His hearts panged painfully as he tried to imagine what things might have happened to drive his future self to act in a way that had his daughter doubting his love for her like this.

"No matter what I say or do, I love you too," Charlie told him. "I promise."

* * *

"I don't like the idea of just leaving you here on your own."

"Dad, seriously, stop worrying," Charlie laughed. "I can handle myself."

"It's more _here_ specifically," the Doctor said, frowning, looking around. The park they were in was in the middle of a city in Earth's fourth major colony in the Isop galaxy. The city reminded the Doctor of Chicago, in a way he couldn't explain, and more importantly, there were several figures he could spy just from their current spot that looked like they would rob a person blind in a second.

"I know my way around these streets blindfolded, don't worry," Charlie promised.

"Are you sure?" Clara asked, looking a bit concerned.

"It's not like I'm not ready to take on anyone who might try anything anyway," Charlie said, pulling a large, exquisite knife from her jacket and twirling it in her fingers to make a point.

"Charlie!" The Doctor yelped, before glowering at her. "Give me that, right now."

"No," Charlie said, frowning back at him and snatching the blade out of his reach when he stretched his hand out. Something dangerous flashed through her eyes. " _Don't_ try that again."

The Doctor, shocked, stared back at her. "Charlie-"

"Look, this is exactly why I need to leave, I can't _be_ here with you like this," Charlie told him. "Seriously, I'll be fine here. I've been coming here since I was a-" Her gaze fixed on something behind both of them, and her voice trailed off. "-kid."

The Doctor and Clara whirled around on the spot, only to see Missy and the younger Charlie that they were familiar with - identical to the one they had last seen - crossing the road not far off, headed for a vendor selling some kind of multicoloured frozen dessert.

"This is bad," Charlie said, making a face.

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, but he couldn't quite make himself agree with it in his hearts, because while it was bad that two Charlies were in the same place, all he could see was his younger daughter, the one that he had for a few awful moments thought was dead.

He just wanted to run with her and gather her in his arms, just to reassure himself that she was okay, even though the living proof was standing right next to him. He remembered Missy's words clearly, though. _If either of you try to come near my daughter again, I'll kill you on sight._

The decision was taken out of his hands, however, when across the distance, the young Charlie turned her head and happened to see them.

"Dad!" She shouted, and sprinted in their direction, ignoring Missy's vocal protests when she saw what her daughter was doing.

The Doctor ran towards her to meet her in the middle, and she flew into his open arms. He held her tight and felt a weight in his chest lift as most of the trauma of thinking she had died melted away.

"Oh kit," he whispered. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"I'm sorry I ran away, but I had to," Charlie told him, arms around his neck. "I love you, Dad, I didn't want to leave, but Mum needs me more."

"I know, I know," the Doctor said. "I'm not angry." He looked up, to find the older Charlie watching them with an unfathomable expression on her face. "I'll love you no matter what, kit. I promise. Even if you do things I don't want you to."

The younger Charlie moved to hug Clara, who looked as relieved as the Doctor had felt being able to hold Charlie in her arms, after everything that had happened, and pressed her nose into Charlie's hair.

"Hey, Charlie, I'm glad you're okay," she said, with a shaky smile.

"Me too, I'm sorry if I scared you," Charlie told her seriously, "I didn't mean to. But I made a mistake. It was probably silly of me."

"It's okay," Clara told her, voice not quite steady. "We all make mistakes sometimes. Did you learn anything from it?" Charlie nodded. "See? Then it's okay."

Missy came to stop in front of them after having run after Charlie, and she glowered at all of them.

"Did you forget what I said?" She snapped at the Doctor. "If you value your neck, Doctor, you'll let go of her right-" She trailed off as her eyes fell on the older Charlie, her face softening as she took in the teenager with wide eyes. When she next spoke, her voice was but a breath. " _Oh_."

Charlie smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes that the Doctor wasn't sure he'd seen the entire time he'd known this version of her. "Hello, Mum."

"Oh, look at you," Missy said, voice quiet with awe, stepping closer and reaching out to brush some hair from Charlie's face, making her smile more softly. "You're so beautiful. Like looking in a mirror."

The younger Charlie was meanwhile eyeing the teenager curiously. "Are you _me_? From the future?"

Older Charlie grinned. "Yep. What do you think?"

"I like your jacket," Younger Charlie said, beaming. "And your boots, too. And, we're taller! That's all I really wanted. Not as tall as I want, but it's still good."

Older Charlie laughed heartily. "Oh, yes, I remember just how much we wanted to be tall. Well, I think this is as tall as I'm going to get, at least until I regenerate. But I guess we'll see."

"Don't worry about something so silly, you're perfect," Missy insisted, cupping Charlie's face in her hand and just staring at her, eyes shining. "And you're happy to see me. Good to know your father hasn't managed to turn you against me. I worry, sometimes."

Charlie shook her head. "I'm yours, Mum. I always will be, before anything else."

The Doctor didn't like the sound of that, but Missy looked so happy in that moment that he couldn't be angry or upset, because his hearts were too busy panging painfully. He'd never seen her so happy. Not in centuries.

"Oh," Missy said, smiling, eyes starry. "Well, good."

Charlie hugged her tightly, and Missy, after a moment of surprise, was quick to hug her back. The younger Charlie joined in, wrapping her arms around Missy's waist but not actually quite touching her future self. It made for an extremely surreal picture, from where the Doctor was standing.

"Oh, if the Time Lords could see me now," Missy murmured, smiling. "Look at you both. My girl."

Older Charlie reached out for her younger self, only for Missy to catch her wrist and give her a lightly reprimanding look.

"Best not, kit," Missy said.

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "The Web of Time can only take so much."

"Oh yeah, whoops," Charlie said, making a face. "Sorry. I should… probably get going, on that note. You know, away from you guys, for the sake of the Web and all. And I do have a delivery to make."

Missy peered around her, at the backpack she was wearing. "And just what are you delivering? And to whom?"

"Well, I can't say who, but-" Charlie's grin became devious and she slipped off the bag to zip it open, just enough for Missy to be able to peek inside. Missy's eyebrows shot up upon seeing whatever was inside, and she looked up at Charlie, impressed, before a delighted little giggle escaped her.

"Ooh, just what have you been up to, little miss?" She asked. "Seems _fun_."

"What's in there?" The Doctor asked, frowning at them and stepping closer to try and get a look, only for Charlie to step away and zip the bag back up, tapping her nose at him and smirking.

"Oh, you know. Girly stuff," she said, making Missy grin. "Mum's education has always helped me get ahead in all the right areas."

Missy dissolved back into helpless giggling, although the Doctor had no idea why.

"And wow. Look at the time. I really gotta go."

"Charlie-"

Charlie whipped her phone out and hit a few buttons on it, before turning to Missy.

"Mum, promise me something," she said to her mother, seriously, touching her shoulder. "Don't blame Dad and Clara for that whole mess where they took me and I tried to get back to you. It wasn't their fault. It was mine. I was the one who took a stupid risk, and made a mistake that almost got me killed. And I was a kid, and it was understandable. No one should be blamed for it. Please let me see Dad and Clara if I want to. They'll never turn me against you, I promise."

Missy stared back at her, jaw tense, eyes conflicted. "I'll… think about it."

Charlie nodded. "Thank you."

That was when _another_ Missy appeared, behind her.

" _Oh_ , look who it is!" She exclaimed, with delight. "The whole gang is here. You _have_ been busy, Charlie dear. Naughty naughty, crossing your timeline like this."

"It was an accident, I promise," Charlie told her.

"Excuses, as always," Missy sighed, but good-naturedly. "Come on. Your cuddle buddy has been complaining about your absence, you need to make this delivery so we can get back to them."

Charlie nodded and put her hand on Missy's vortex manipulator. Her gaze landed on the Doctor, who felt a tug in his hearts. He didn't want her to go, even though he knew that she had to. That he had to live all the days that would turn his Charlie into this strong young woman.

"Charlie," he tried to say.

"See you later, Dad," she said, with a smile that held a hint of sadness. "I miss you. Try and remember what you promised me, okay?"

He swallows. "I will. I swear."

"See you, Clara," she said to Clara, who nodded. "I'm… well, I guess I'm sorry, in advance."

"Why-"

Clara's question faded as the future Missy and Charlie disappeared with a crackle of light, leaving the Doctor and Clara with the earlier versions.

"Should I say sorry as well?" The remaining Charlie asked Clara.

"No, you haven't done anything wrong," Clara assured her, biting her lip. "I don't know why she said that."

"Well, clearly, she's going to do something _awful_ to you, and I for one can't wait," Missy said, cackling and looking at her daughter proudly. "Come on, kit, I think we can get dessert elsewhere."

"But I want to see Dad-"

"I said I'd _think_ about what she said, I'm nowhere near done with being furious with him for what happened," Missy said, glaring at the Doctor and Clara. "You might be able to see them later, if I decide to be nice. But not right now."

"Okay," Charlie sighed and hugged the Doctor quickly, and he held onto her tightly, not knowing how long it would be until he got to do so again. She moved to hug Clara too, after, but Missy yanked her back.

"Ta-ta for now," Missy told them, before she and Charlie disappeared with a nearly exact mimicry of their future selves, leaving the Doctor and Clara alone.

The Doctor stared at where they had been with dismay, a strange defeat filling his chest.

"Are you alright?" Clara asked, coming closer. He just shook his head and sighed, and was silently grateful when she slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"She told me…" He pursed his lips. "She told me that something will happen. Something that changes everything between us. I just - I don't want to lose my daughter, Clara."

"You won't," Clara told him firmly, moving to cup his face with her other hand, forcing him to look at her. "Did you even see how she looked at you? She loves you so much. There might be more to it than that, but trust me, that's what teenagers are like." She made a face. "This is more complicated than the usual case, but it's still true. Whatever happened, I'm sure it'll be okay. You aren't going to lose her."

The Doctor gave her hand a squeeze and did his best to give her a smile. "I hope you're right."

"I'm always right, remember?" She said, lifting her eyebrows, and he chuckled, feeling lighter for it. How could she always make him feel better, no matter what?

"Yes, boss."

With that, they headed back to the TARDIS. As long as he had Clara, a part of him was sure that everything would be alright, even if another part of him, a long-suffering part, would always long for Missy like it had done for centuries.

He would continue to ignore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought! I hope some of you guys are still interested in this story, because I have a Lot Of Plans. :D


	16. Truce and Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The key to robbing a bank? Showmanship, and a bit of teamwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry how long it's taken! The plot heavy chapters really get me, plus uni has been hectic and other fics call me and I'm weak. 
> 
> Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait! Enjoy!

Missy waited impatiently.

It was a still, warm night, and the gardens of Balencia were empty. Missy sat on a bench, studying a flower within arm's reach. It was pretty and delicate and streaked with fine blue lines.

She smiled, just a fraction, before crushing the bloom in her hands.

"Can you ever just let something beautiful be?"

The Doctor's voice made her look up. He stood there, as handsome as ever, making her hearts ache just a little despite all the fury that still raged within her chest when she thought about what his actions had almost done. But that was the trouble with him. She could be in the middle of trying to kill him, an inch from destroying him, or just sitting here wanting to scream at him, and the urge to kiss his stupid face would never be completely gone.

"No," she said, meeting his gaze calmly. "Now, why am I here? What did you call this? A parlay?"

"I wanted to see you," he said quietly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"

He gave her a hopeless kind of shrug. "I've been wondering that for centuries, I still have no idea."

"If this is your way of trying to tell me that you miss me, it doesn't make up for what almost happened to our daughter because of you," Missy sniffed. "I'm still furious about that."

"Even with what she said? The future Charlie?"

Missy swallowed at the thought of the older Charlie, of her daughter almost grown up. "Yes."

The Doctor came to sit next to her on the bench, leaving as much space between them as possible - about a foot and a half.

"She was really something, wasn't she?"

Missy smiled a little, her hearts warming at the thought of  _I'm yours, Mum_ , and the way the girl's eyes had held just as much adoration as her younger self when they looked at her.

She'd never realised before that moment just how much she had quietly feared that her daughter would be driven to look at her with the same mournful disappointment that her father always did.

"Yeah, she was," Missy said, voice thick. "It looks like I do an alright job of this parenting thing this time around."

" _We_ do," he corrected her.

Missy thought of Charlie's bag, the contents of which she had apparently kept hidden from her father. She herself had not been sure what to expect when it had been offered to her to peek into - but the decapitated head (only a day dismembered, Missy's experience had her guess) had not been it. Regardless of whether Charlie had been the one to kill him or was merely a delivery girl, it was remarkably promising that her daughter would grow into someone who would be proud of such antics.

Missy giggled a little. "No, Thete, I think I deserve most of the credit on this one."

"Maybe," he admitted, but without looking particularly pleased about the prospect. "She still cares about both of us. I suppose… all things considered… that's the best we could hope for."

Missy turned her head to look at him. "Perhaps." She found herself furious again at the thought of what his carelessness had nearly cost them.

"Tell me you're sorry," she said to him.

"For?"

"You know exactly what for," Missy snarled, and sure enough, guilt flashed across his face. "Yes, there it is. For taking my  _daughter_  away from me  _against her will_. For leaving faulty vortex manipulators around where any  _eight year old_ can find them. For not being more careful with our  _daughter_ , for being the reason she almost  _died_."

"I know," the Doctor said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Missy."

God, that was amazing to hear from him. Amazing to see the genuine regret in his face, the apology, to hear the words fall from his lips.

Missy grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into a rough, bruising kiss. He let her do it, hands reaching for her with a kind of desperation. It had been too long since they had done this, for both of them, and she had been so caught up in her fury that she had almost forgotten how much she always wanted him.

How good it could feel when he would shudder under her touch, the way he always submitted in the end, even if sometimes he tried to fight her dominance.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, over and over again, and she tired of it very quickly.

"Prove it," she replied, putting a finger over his mouth and half smirking when he swallowed, hard. "Shut that pretty mouth of yours and find a way to make a proper apology. Actions speak louder than words, after all."

The Doctor's eyes were dark now as they regarded her, and she saw the flash of submission in his eyes that sent heat through her body right before he shifted to fall onto his knees on the stone in front of her. His hands gently pushed apart her knees and started pushing up the petticoats of her skirts.

Missy smirked and let her fingers come to comb through his hair as he kissed up her bared thighs.

"Better."

* * *

Charlie waited.

Under the console, in a spot just the right size for her to sit, in the gap between the floor and the slope of the console, she sat and she waited. She'd checked with the TARDIS that her mother wasn't on board, but knew better than to go outside and look. Missy was still being very overprotective, and she wasn't allowed out on her own under any circumstances at the moment.

Missy eventually came back, humming something and grinning to herself, a bit unsteady on her feet as she danced through the doors of their TARDIS and shut them behind her. She stayed leaning against them for a moment, an odd little giddy laugh escaping her, before she moved forward.

"Where did you go?" Charlie asked, poking her head out from under the console.

Missy jumped, for the first time taken properly by surprise by Charlie. "Oh! I-" She recovered from her shock and narrowed her eyes at Charlie. "You should still be in bed. Back there, now, off you pop."

"But where did you go?"

"Where I felt like going," Missy replied. "You know I encourage questions, but this is not one of those times. Sometimes Mummy has to go places and you aren't old enough to know what those places are. Understand?"

Charlie understood. She just wasn't sure she liked it. Not knowing things was annoying.

"Okay," she said, reluctantly.

Missy approached her and bent to kiss the top of her head. "Good. Now come on, kit, bed, I mean it this time. Don't make me ask again. I'll get properly cross."

Charlie knew that was true, and didn't need telling twice. "Good night."

* * *

Lessons continued. More fencing. Charlie was getting quite good now, but there was a lot still to learn. Missy started her on basic blaster training too, as well as some classic earlier Earth guns.

"I don't think I like guns," Charlie told her on the third day.

"Too bad, kiddo," Missy replied, with an American accent.

"It just seems like people could get hurt by accident, really easy," Charlie continued, "what if I make a mistake and I shoot somebody by accident?"

"They learn to stand somewhere else."

"Mum."

"You learn to shoot the right person on purpose."

"Mum, I don't want to kill anyone by accident, I don't even know if I want to kill anyone on  _purpose_ ," Charlie said, making a face.

Missy sighed loudly. "Look, Charlie. It's simple. If you know how to use this, you won't hurt anyone by accident. It's  _lack_ of knowledge that gets people killed. If you know your way around a gun, you'll have almost complete control over who you hurt and who you don't. It's that simple."

"Why don't you use guns, then?"

"Because they're horribly inelegant, they'd ruin my whole outfit. Better for me to just have my disintegrator. It's the same reason I went for the Tissue Compression Eliminator in my earlier days. It's all about the look. You're no villain without a look."

Charlie regarded her curiously, her revolver arm dropping to her side. "Do I need a look?"

Missy chuckled. "I'd say you're doing just fine, kit. Dark dress and boots? Plenty princess of evil for now. We just need to get you another crown or maybe a nice hat, and you'll be sorted for the next while."

"A hat?" Charlie asked, brightening at the thought. "I think I'm bored of crowns, for a while, but a hat could be cool! What kind of hat?"

Missy shrugged and moved to take the gun off her and place it back on the rack in the training room. "Don't know. Why don't we go and have a look?"

They made their way to the wardrobe, and tried on a variety of hats, including Missy's favourite with the decorations on the top. Charlie had little interest in directly copying her mother though - she wanted her  _own_  hat.

Finally she found one she liked, black with a purple ribbon, able to sit neatly on her mane of hair.

"This one," Charlie said, voice firm.

"Pork pie hat?" Missy asked, lifting an eyebrow and nodding as her eyes swept over her daughter. "Hmm. Yes. I quite agree. Good choice, kit."

Charlie eyed herself in the mirror. She felt important now, like she had a proper important outfit and not just a dress and some shoes. Like her mum, even if her mum didn't always need hats.

She grinned at her reflection. "Yeah, this is good."

Missy smiled and came to stand behind her, hands on her shoulders. Charlie realised that their outfits matched, and grinned even wider.

"Look at us," Missy said, sounding pleased. "What a pair we make."

"The best pair."

Missy nodded, and kissed the top of her head again, seeming strangely emotional for reasons Charlie didn't understand (perhaps something to do with their encounter with the older Charlie, which Charlie couldn't really recall anything about, which was apparently normal when two versions of the same person meet).

"Do you like me better than anyone else in the whole universe?" Missy asked as her fingers played with a few of Charlie's more errant curls.

"Duh," Charlie replied, lifting an eyebrow. "You're my mum. You're awesome."

"Hmm. Yes. I rather am, aren't I?" Missy said with a smile. "You always know how to make your old mum feel better, you do, kit."

"I'm glad."

* * *

"Alright. Little test run. How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. I think. I don't know."

Missy tugged at Charlie's protective vest, checking it with her critical eye before nodding with satisfaction.

"No need to be nervous, kit. I'll be with you every step of the way, and it would take a Dalek to get through that vest."

"Okay," Charlie said, a little reassured.

Missy smiled and adjusted her jacket primly. "Good. Now let's rob a bank."

The reasoning was fairly simple, really. Missy needed - well, alright,  _wanted_  - the fancy new proton accelerator being kept in the vault of the bank in question. And a bank job seemed like an ideal place to take Charlie and her evolving skill set for a test run of sorts.

"Here, take this," Missy said, handing over her smallest gun. "I've set it to stun, so you can shut people up without having to wrestle with any morality if you're not close enough to put those sleep patches on them, but should you get over that in a fit of adrenaline or finally realising murdering people is nothing to worry about, you can turn it off stun just here."

Charlie nodded and tucked the gun into her coat pocket. "Alright. Thanks."

"Also, this," Missy added, ducking down to slip a knife into Charlie's boot. "Never hurts to have a backup, and although we've not really covered knife training yet - there's a lot more to it than swords, if you ask me - if you go for the neck or stomach, you're usually fine."

"How are you putting that in my boot?"

"I put a little pocket in them ages ago, specifically for knives," she said, like it's obvious, "being evil is 30% preparation, 40% excellent hair, 30% obsession with the goody two shoes trying to ruin your plans, and 100% commitment."

"That makes 200%," Charlie replied, frowning.

"Yes, because there's two of us, try and keep up."

With that, they headed for the TARDIS door, and began to put their plan into progress. They ran over it again as they walked down the street of New London, on New Earth. Above them, buildings towered so high the tops were out of Charlie's line of sight. They were on a mid street too, halfway up the height of the buildings, hundreds of feet above the ground level street.

Once outside the bank, they came to a stop.

"Alright, showtime," Missy said, bending to adjust Charlie's coat lapels and pat them in place with a little smile. "Knock 'em dead, kiddo. Not literally, of course. Though, that's also fine." She waved her hand and grinned. "You know what? You just do you. I'll be listening, I'm flexible, I'll work around whatever you come up with." She tapped the earpiece in her ear to make her point.

Charlie regarded her mother with amusement, a little smile on her lips. "I think I'll just stick to the plan."

"That works too," Missy said, nodding, smiling back and patting her head. "Alright, kit, off you go."

Charlie headed into the bank, thinking over the plan and doing her best to adopt a more lost, helpless expression as she walked through the doors. She lingered in the entrance, letting her gaze run over the room so that she could take in the layout. The exits, the people near doors carrying what look to be stun pistols, the tellers at the desks.

"Hello there," a thin man in a nice suit said, approaching her and smiling down at her. "Are you alright?"

Charlie had practiced for two weeks to get this next part right - but she could now cry on cue. Which is what she did right in that moment, much to the man's alarm.

"I - I can't find my mum," she said with dismay, remembering what one bit of online advice had told her about channelling real emotion, and drawing on times she'd actually been unable to get to Missy to make the emotion more genuine.

"Oh no," he said, eyebrows lifting. "Where did you last see her?"

"We - we were at the market, but there were too many people," she sniffled, "but she said she was coming to the bank and I know she comes to  _this_ bank-"

"Then it sounds like you've done well," he told her with a warm smile. "Tell you what, why don't you come and sit with me at my desk. There's a clear view of the door, so you'll be able to keep an eye out for your mother, and I can try and look her up in our database, see if we can call her mobile comm."

Charlie felt a moment of alarm, before shaking her head. "She left it at home today, by accident."

He sighed. "Ah. Well, the lookout plan, then. I'm Palen. What's your name?"

"Charlie."

"Well, Charlie, if you follow me over here, I think I have a spare datapad you can amuse yourself with, it has all the basic game packages."

Palen led her through the main body of the bank floor, until they reached his desk, which sure enough did have a good - if distant - view of the front entrance. There was a seat next to his desk that he gestured for her to sit in, and he rummaged in a drawer before pulling out the promised datapad.

"There you are," he said, smiling.

"Thank you," she said as she took it, and she opened the camera app. "Can I take pictures on this with the funny filters?"

He chuckled. "Of course." Satisfied he had gone a good job of keeping her amused, he got back to his work.

Charlie started taking selfies, from different angles so as to get the layout of the room including the stationing of the various guards at certain doors and corridors. Then she opened up a basic channel and entered in the frequency that would allow her to broadcast the images to Missy's own personal device.

" _Good girl,"_  Missy's voice came through the earpiece loud and clear.  _"Any ideas about the alarms?"_

That was a trickier question, and Charlie leant back in her chair so that she could cast her eyes around with more scrutiny over the top of the datapad. She could see security cameras, and sent through their locations via more selfies, but wasn't sure about alarms.

" _Picture with a thumbs up if you know about the alarms."_

Charlie sent a picture with a thumbs down.

" _That's alright, we can work around that. There's probably a big control panel for them somewhere. You can go for a wander and try to find it, because this city has quite the armoured police force, and I'd like to avoid getting them involved. A few armed guards I can handle, but you're a bit young to be handling an army just yet. Tell him you need to go to the bathroom, and find a way to get out from under his watch. Then you can go snooping. Remember to play the innocent, lost kiddo if anything goes tits up."_

Charlie looked up from the datapad, at Palen. "Where's your bathroom? I need to go."

"Oh, of course," he said, blinking at her. "It's just down - well, actually, I should probably show you."

"Can I take this with me? I like taking pictures with the mirror," she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him and giving him her most innocent smile.

Palen just grinned at her. "Of course."

They got up from his desk, and he led her through the bustling foyer and into one of the side corridors, until they came to a stop in front of a door marked with a bathroom icon.

"There we go," Palen said. "Do you want me to wait?"

Charlie smiled at him and shook her head. "No, that's okay, I might take quite a lot of pictures. I can find my way back to your desk, it's easy."

He smiled back. "Excellent. I'll see you in a bit, then. What does your mother look like, in case she comes in?"

"She has a nice purple dress and jacket, brown hair, and a hat with fake fruit on it," Charlie told him. "She had her umbrella with her too."

"Wonderful, I'll keep an eye out."

"Thanks!"

Charlie headed into the bathroom and waited until she could hear him walk away before pressing her hand to her earpiece.

"Mum?"

" _Loud and clear, poppet,"_  Missy said.  _"So, go on, find that alarm panel. And be stealthy about it."_

"Okay, I'll try," Charlie told her. She poked her head out of the bathroom door after another ten seconds, glancing around to check that the coast was clear before creeping off in the direction opposite to the main workspace with the datapad under her arm.

The corridor around the corner had several doors and another corridor coming off it. Charlie peered inside the first door. It was an office, thankfully empty. She shut the door again.

Footsteps rung out further down the corridor, and she darted into the other branch and held her breath, preparing excuses and performances for if the person made the turn and saw her instead of going right past.

Luckily, they did continue on towards the main workspace, and Charlie was able to let out her breath and continue on to the next door. This time, she was in luck. Security room.

Except that it wasn't empty. There was a figure in a chair that whirled around at the sound of the door opening.

"What the-"

Before the woman in the chair could finish her sentence, Charlie put on big eyes and watched her face visibly soften.

"I'm sorry, am I not meant to be in here?" she asked. "I think I got lost on my way back from the bathroom."

"I really think you did," the woman said, frowning at her.

"I'm sorry, I lost my mum, one of the men in the bank has been looking after me," Charlie let her voice wobble, and called up a few fake tears.

The woman got up from her chair and crossed the room to her. She didn't have the big worried eyes that Charlie's current expression tended to win her, but she did seem at least a little concerned.

"Alright," she said matter of factly, "let's get you back to him, then, do you remember his-"

Charlie didn't let her finish the sentence. She reached up and slipped a sleep patch onto her wrist, and the woman immediately hit the floor. Charlie stepped over her to the controls of the security centre and searched until she found the alarms.

"I think I've found it, Mum."

" _Good girl_."

Missy walked her through turning off the alarms, both the ones within the building and the ones that would call for law enforcement.

" _Good, that should stop any nasty masses of boring police busybodies ruining our fun,"_ Missy said happily.  _"Not that they'd worry me usually, but I have to play on easy mode with my kit, don't I? Now, I think it's time for me to make a grand entrance."_

"Okay, I'll get back to the main room," Charlie said, and slipped out of the security room and into the main corridor.

Or rather, she started to leave, saw someone in the distance, and quickly ducked back inside to wait for them to go past. Her hearts pounded in counterpoint to the footsteps and she found herself grinning. She could see why her mum liked this sort of thing.

Charlie waited. Listened. Once the footsteps passed, she peeked her head out again, and this time the coast was clear. She crept out and made her way back to the main area of the bank, seeking out Palen, who looked vaguely relieved about her return.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "I took lots of selfies, but then I realised I probably shouldn't clutter up your storage with them, so I deleted them."

Palen chuckled a little. "Thoughtful of you. Now, I haven't spotted your mother yet, but if she doesn't turn up in an hour or so, we could try and arrange for you to be dropped home by somebody."

"I'm sure she'll come," Charlie said.

"Then so am I," Palen told her. "Any sensible mother would go to where her child knew she was going to go, if she lost them."

"My mum is really clever."

"There we go, then."

" _You're so sweet, kit,"_ Missy's voice said in her ear, and Charlie could visualise her pressing her hand to one of her hearts and wiping fake tears from her eyes.  _"Anyway, on that note, I'm going to make my grand entrance now."_

Because she was watching the door, Charlie was probably the only one who noticed the small bomb that went flying through the bank's front doors and landed near the front central desk. Precisely one bank worker seemed to have noticed it and its beeping amongst all the chatter.

The bomb exploded, the blast small but powerful, incinerating the three central desks and those sitting at them, and knocking back a few people nearby.

Missy, with all her usual pose and grandeur, swaggered into the bank just as the screams started, and grinned. "Hello. This is a robbery. Do stay calm if you wish to avoid being similarly blown up."

"There she is," Charlie said to Palen, grinning. "Thanks for all your help!" She ran to Missy before he could do anything but look at her with bewilderment.

Everyone in the bank was staring at them, or at the charred bodies in the centre of the room, or both. Missy's grin was now a smirk as she strode forward, Charlie right behind her.

"Now, I'm going to make things very simple," Missy said as she saw several security people reaching for their guns, and threw three more of the small bombs across the room. " _These_  bombs are the same as the one you just saw, but with one little difference. They're on timers. And those timers are controlled by  _moi_." She held up her handheld device. "If someone has not gone to fetch me that lovely new proton accelerator out of your vault in the next five minutes, I will be blowing them up, one at a time. And my lovely daughter here has the backup codes, so don't think that shooting me will do any good, because it's not likely to kill me, only make me far more inclined to kill everybody in the building."

The bit about Charlie having the backup codes was a lie, not that it really mattered.

" _This_  is your mother?!" Palen asked Charlie with horror.

"Sorry, I didn't  _actually_ lose her," she told him, giggling as she saw some people looking nervous, their hands under their desks. "But I had to get into the control room and make it so that nobody could call the police, which is why no one's panic buttons are doing anything, you see."

"That's my girl," Missy said to her daughter, smiling. "You did such a good job, I'm very proud of you."

"Really?" Charlie said, beaming back at her.

"Of course-"

The sound of someone throwing up distracted Missy from finishing her sentence, and she glared at the woman who was bent over near her desk.

"Excuse me, we're trying to have a moment here, could you please lose the contents of your stomach a little more quietly?" Missy asked her, rolling her eyes and pressing her hand to her chest as if truly offended.

"You just roasted our colleagues alive," one of the men near the woman in question told Missy, staring at her with hatred and disgust.

"I think incinerated would be a more accurate term, actually, roasting would imply a more… edible result," Missy said, tilting her head as she regarded the completely charred bodies. "Now. Proton accelerator. Chop chop, clock's a ticking."

One of the other men got to his feet, visibly shaking, and glanced at a short elderly woman near him. "Come on, then. I'll need your code."

"Yes, of course," the old woman said, swallowing, and glanced nervously in Missy's direction as she got up from her chair.

They hurried out, and Missy smiled pleasantly at several of those who remained.

"Well, this is all going rather nicely, isn't it?" she asked.

"He's texting, probably for help," Charlie said, having spotted someone trying and failing to hide his phone under his desk.

Missy frowned, pointed her device at him, and disintegrated him on the point, making everyone else shift uneasily and one or two people sob just once. Charlie wondered if maybe she shouldn't have mentioned it. It wasn't as if he was the first to die here, but his death had been a direct result of her actions, or close enough, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"I really  _had_ tried to give you all the benefit of the doubt, and thought you'd all be too smart to try anything like that," Missy said with a shake of her head and a melodramatic sigh. "But anyone texting  _will_ be atomised. Can't have the police ruining my fun before I get my accelerator."

"You're a monster," said the same woman who had thrown up earlier.

"Quite," Missy replied, smiling at her, even while Charlie frowned.

"No, you're not," she said, and looked at the woman. "She's not. She's my mum, and she's the best mum ever. She's not a monster."

"You've really done a number on her, haven't you?" Palen asked, staring at Missy. "You're murdering people right in front of her and she still thinks you're a good person."

"Good and bad are subjective," Charlie replied. "And you don't know her, not really."

Missy put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Kit, as much as I appreciate your defending me, this isn't really the time, and I don't need it. I've been called much worse. As for what I've done to you-" She looked at Palen and narrowed her eyes. "It's called loyalty. Perhaps you're unfamiliar with the concept."

Palen just looked at Charlie with so much pity that she felt immensely uncomfortable and hugged Missy's side to make herself feel better.

Luckily, it wasn't long after that the two senior bank members returned with the proton accelerator in a neat case and anxiously handed it over. Charlie took it so that Missy's hands were free in case she had to deal with anyone trying anything, and the girl checked that it was indeed the proton accelerator inside the case.

"Looks like the picture you showed me," Charlie told her mother.

"Wonderful." Missy addressed the whole room as she and Charlie stepped backwards in the direction of the front doors. "In that case, we'll be off. You've all been  _fabulous_ , a little bit of throwing up aside. Good levels of screams, really set the atmosphere, good stuff. We'll be off now."

"We'll find you, and make you pay," someone told her furiously.

Missy laughed. "I sincerely doubt it. Toodles, dears."

With that, they pushed out of the front doors, or more importantly, out of the anti-teleport field the bank had for security reasons. Charlie's hand went to Missy's vortex manipulator and the two of them teleported back to the alley where Missy's TARDIS was waiting.

"Textbook exit," Missy said, clasping her hands together happily. "Wonderful."

"We did it!" Charlie exclaimed, beaming. "That was fun."

"It was, wasn't it?" Missy ruffled her hair fondly. "We make a good team, kit. I always knew we would. Now, I think you've earned some ice cream. What do you think?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	17. *Insert Training Montage Here*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has a lot to learn, but so does Missy, and they both need to learn to be a bit more careful. (Meanwhile, the Doctor and Clara get another glimpse at Charlie's mysterious future.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone take Missy away from me. She's too much fun to write and people keep ending up dead. Whoops?

"They're all so pretty."

Missy smiled as Charlie's hands trailed over the hilts of the various knives laid out before her.

"Pick one, go on," she said gently.

Charlie settled on one with a blade the length of her hand and width of two of her fingers, liking how it felt in her grip.

"Good choice," Missy told her, taking a knife for herself and then guiding Charlie to the targeting range on the other half of the room. "Now. I have a special inclination for knives. Firstly, because they're pretty, like you said. There's an elegance to them that no gun will  _ever_  possess, ever. Secondly, they're helpful for if you want to be able to precisely control how much you want to hurt someone. And why might we want to do that?"

"If we want them to tell us something they don't want to," Charlie replied.

Missy beamed. "Exactly. Now, we'll get to that later, because that's precision work, it's trickier, and we have all the time in the universe. First, I'm going to teach you how to throw them."

Missy threw her knife across the room with startling speed, and the blade landed right between the eyes of the middle silhouette figure at opposite end of the room, about fifteen feet away.

Charlie stared, awed. It was one thing to know that her mother was a true force to be reckoned with, and another to see even a small aspect of it.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" she asked.

Missy smiled at her. "We'll get there."

* * *

"Faster!"

The treadmill was already on a fairly high level, but Charlie obediently put it up one more and kept running. Missy's eyes were on her device, following the distance and speed through a remote connection with the treadmill.

Sweat was running down Charlie's back, and even with the respiratory bypass it was getting difficult to breathe.

"Better," Missy said, gaze unwavering. "Now, faster."

Charlie shook her head. "I can't."

"I wasn't asking, kit." Missy hit a button on her remote and the treadmill sped up, much to Charlie's dismay.

"But-"

"If you have the breath to argue, you have the breath to run."

Charlie nodded and pushed on. Her legs could handle it, just about - they were strong from all the ballet lessons. Her lungs and respiratory bypass were another matter, though. Although they'd certainly been well trained by the dance lessons, nothing could fully prepare someone for running at such a speed as she was for any extended period of time.

Her chest burned, and so did her throat; it was becoming increasingly impossible to breathe. It had to be obvious how much she was struggling, but Missy's gaze was as intent and immovable as ever.

Determined to not fail, Charlie tried harder, and the next thing she knew something had gone wrong and she was flying backwards into the wall, her head thudding against it. Her vision swam for a moment, but she could still make out the purple outline of her mother as the Time Lady rushed to kneel by her side.

"Kit, are you alright?" she asked urgently.

Charlie stared up at her, unable to speak because she couldn't breathe and her head was swimming and her chest felt like it was going to collapse. All she could do was shake her head.

Worry finally crossed over Missy's face and she pulled Charlie half into her lap.

"I'm sorry, Charlie girl. Got carried away, didn't I?" Missy said as she stroked Charlie's hair and sighed. "I'm always doing that. I just want you to be strong. Stronger, better, than anyone else. So no one can ever hurt you."

Charlie kept gulping in air and nodded a little, unable to feel reassured when her hearts were still racing and it felt like she was going to die for her chest not working right and being so overworked.

"I want you to do the running every day," Missy told her. "And I want you to push yourself - I want notable improvements in how far you can run, how fast." Charlie stared at her with disbelief, before Missy added, " _But..._ from now on,  _you'll_  decide when to stop. I'm trusting you to know what you can handle, while still trying your hardest."

"Okay," Charlie managed to say. "Thank you."

Missy kissed the top of her head. "I  _am_  sorry, kit. Are you alright?"

"I think so," Charlie said. "My head just hurts. I can breathe okay now, mostly. Can we just stay here for a bit? I don't want to move yet."

"Of course," Missy agreed, fingers trailing through Charlie's curls. "You tried so hard for me. You're so strong."

"I'm not."

"You will be," Missy said, voice soft. "Oh, you will be. You're going to be my greatest triumph."

* * *

It was odd to think that one could get accustomed to the varying yet oddly consistent aesthetics of alien dive bars, but such was Clara Oswald's strange life. Sometimes it couldn't be avoided that they would need a drink after a rough day and a dive bar was the best they could do with what they had.

Or rather, Clara would get a proper drink, and the Doctor would get whatever version of lemonade he could. Because what's the point of being two thousand years old if you have to act like a grown up?

The bartender was a cute pink-skinned lady with four arms and shining brown eyes, and Clara was more than happy to flirt her way to a discount. She walked away from the bar with the drinks in hand, feeling immensely satisfied until she walked past a bulletin board and nearly dropped the drinks when she saw some of the posters.

"Up," she said to the Doctor ten seconds later, in her  _I'm very unimpressed_  voice, as she set the drinks down on the table of his selected corner booth, with a little more force than necessary.

"Up where?"

"Up now, and follow me," she said sternly, in the teacher voice that always worked on him, and he obediently got out of his seat and followed her, albeit not without grumbling.

"Clara, whatever this is, can it wait until I've finished my lemonade?"

"No, it can't." They came to a stop, and Clara jabbed her finger into the weird holographic paper on the bulletin, so that he couldn't possibly miss her point.

His face went pale with shock. "That's-"

"Your daughter. On a wanted poster."

The Doctor stared at the face that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, his fingers come up to touch it. "She's older. Than that future version we met. Isn't she? I'm no good with ages, but… she looks different."

"A bit older, yeah," Clara said, nodding.

" _Charlie Masters, 18, wanted for grand larceny, destruction of property, and resisting arrest,"_ the Doctor read, staring at the photo that depicted a future version of his daughter posing for the camera with her fingers in a peace sign and her tongue stuck out, like she was modelling for a photoshoot or Snapchat and not the authorities.

"Who's that with her?" Clara asked. There was a man with his own picture as well as one with her. He looked to be around forty, handsome and sandy haired, with incredibly defined cheekbones that did a good job of matching up to hers. He wore an elaborate red jacket that was as showy as the smile he was giving the camera.

"No idea," the Doctor said, frowning as he read the poster. "It just says  _Vera_ ,  _age unknown, wanted for grand larceny, destruction of property, assault, and resisting arrest._  Oh good, like the stealing and destruction wasn't enough, her friend's violent."

"That jacket looks familiar," Clara said.

"It's from the Napoleonic Wars," the Doctor said. "Which means either he's a time traveler, or Charlie will have her own means of travel."

"I mean, Missy has a vortex manipulator  _and_ a TARDIS, I guess she wouldn't need both."

"Suppose we'll find out."

They both stared at the pictures. It was a shared wanted poster, depicting them side by side, and Vera's arm was around Charlie's shoulders and she seemed to be laughing as they posed together - still definitely not taking the whole thing seriously.

"Hope you're proud," Clara couldn't help saying.

"Don't," the Doctor snapped, grabbing the posters and pulling them down, throwing them in the nearest bin. "Just… don't."

He stormed back off to their table and sipped at his lemonade with a scowl. Clara followed and fell into the seat next to him, and sipped at her wine.

"I'm sorry," she said, and he didn't reply. "I mean, at least we know she's alive. Can apparently look after herself. And… we might not approve of what she's going to get up to, but she looked happy. She'll be alive, and happy, and apparently really competent. Isn't that good?"

The Doctor sighed, and glanced at her, his eyes softening. "Yeah," he said, voice gruff. "Yeah, that's good."

Clara gave his hand a squeeze and was rewarded with the fraction of a smile.

* * *

Charlie gripped the knife in her hand as she walked to stand at the mark and face the target. Once there, she took a deep breath and loosened her grip, recalling the technique that her mother had been drilling into her for the better part of a year.

The knife flew out of her hands and into the target at the other end. It only hit the leg, but it was the upper leg, which wasn't too bad.

"Good," Missy told her, smiling. "But you can do better. Again."

After Charlie had managed to hit him in the chest, even if it was more a fluke, probably, they moved to fencing, where Charlie was now able to hold her own against Missy for three minutes. It was a significant improvement on the twenty seconds she'd been stuck on for a solid two months when training had begun.

A few hours later, Charlie was on the treadmill. After nearly a year of training, and pushing herself, she could run at eight miles an hour, for an hour, before having to slow down.

For an hour she ran, sweating and panting but also feeling exhilarated because she could  _do this_  and the faint pride in her mother's eyes as she watched was worth every second of burning lungs. When the hour was up, she slowed down, and stumbled off the treadmill, breathless and ecstatic.

"Well done, kit," Missy told her, patting her head. "You've left all those human kiddies in the dust by now. They're all breakable with their growing cartilage and such, and can't push themselves too hard, but you're made of stronger stuff, and you've worked hard, and it shows."

"Thanks," Charlie said.

"You'll be grateful for it when you're running for your life from some beastie and don't burn out in the first ten minutes," Missy assured her, chuckling and clapping her on the back. "Now, what do you think? Celebratory ice cream? We can discuss what you want to do for your birthday next week. It's not every day you turn ten, you know."

* * *

Charlie's birthday ended up consisting of a party at Versailles and then Missy deciding to steal a cake from Marie Antoinette for Charlie's birthday cake, resulting in the two of them having to make an extremely quick getaway while the royal guards chased them.

"We could have just bought a cake!" Charlie said to her mother as they ducked around a corner to hide.

"Cake is always better when you've earned it," Missy replied, "for some, that means making the cake, or doing something worthy of then allowing yourself to buy it. Me? I like to steal the cake. Now  _that's_ earning your cake and eating it too."

"I don't think that's how the saying goes," Charlie said, frowning.

"Shush. We need to be on our way. Come on, follow me."

Once they got back to the TARDIS, they were both laughing and shedding their elaborate French court dresses and their huge skirts to collapse in the TARDIS lounge in their white shifts and setting the cake on the table so that they can sit there and eat it in between their giggles.

Missy's hair had fallen from its up-do and was falling around her face. Combined with the simple design of the shift, which was slightly hanging off her shoulder, Charlie found herself staring at her mother.

"What? Have I got cake on my nose?" Missy asked, frowning.

"No," Charlie said, chuckling as she got herself another forkful of cake. "You just look really pretty. In a different way to usual. You're the prettiest mum or queen ever, probably."

Missy's expression softened and she looked at Charlie with the tenderness that always made Charlie's hearts swell in her chest. "Aw, kit. You say the sweetest things. Come here."

Charlie moved around the table and came to sit in her lap like she was still a toddler or small child and not newly ten years old. Missy hugged her to her side and kissed her temple.

"Promise me, that no matter how hard I push you, you never forget how proud I am of you," Missy told her. "Because I am. Always."

Charlie nodded. "I know. I love you."

"I love you too, Charlie girl."

* * *

The knife missed the fancy technicolor dart board for the third time, and Charlie huffed with frustration as she moved across the polished marble floor of the restaurant to pick it up from where it had clattered to the ground.

"You shouldn't scowl so much, kit, you'll get awful lines in that pretty face of yours," Missy said from the lavish booth of the lounge they were in.

The servers of the obscenely high end restaurant, not including the one currently pouring Missy a drink, were standing with their backs to the walls and were watching them with tight expressions.

"I know, I just hate not getting it right," Charlie grumbled.

"That's what practice is for," Missy said.

"I know." Charlie went to collect the knife and then walked back to where she had been standing.

It was quiet in the room as Charlie lined up the shot, brow furrowed. She could feel that most eyes were on her, for lack of much else interesting currently happening. Luckily, being watched didn't bother her, and she threw the knife and was delighted to see it actually hit the target this time, albeit nowhere near the high scoring sections.

Missy applauded. "There you go, kit, I knew you could do it."

She took a large sip of her drink, only to cough and pull a face, frowning at the glass of blue liquid. She sniffed it, and took another sip, which again made her cough.

"You," she said to the man who had brought it to her. "Can you try this? I think it tastes funny, what do you think? Take a nice big sip, to make sure you get the flavour."

The server had already looked a fair bit paler than he had a minute ago, but now he was positively ashen.

"Oh, no, my lady, I'll simply fetch you a new one-"

"No, no, I insist," Missy said, with the pleasant, calm smile that Charlie knew was her dangerous one. "Does it taste like arsenic to you? Or as you'd call it, Compound 342? Or am I being fanciful again? It does happen."

The server, with shaking hands, reached out for the glass and held it to his lips.

"Go on, nice and long, that's it," Missy encouraged him as he drank.

When he dropped to the floor almost instantly, and turned a rather interesting shade of purple as his body convulsed slightly and then stilled, Charlie stared and Missy clicked her tongue.

"Good service is  _so_ hard to find these days," she said with disappointment, wiping at her mouth with the table napkin. "Honestly, you kill only two dozen of their guests and coworkers and suddenly you're being poisoned by the waiter."

Charlie rushed to the booth and slid in next to her.

"Are you alright?!"

"Of course I am, a tiny bit of human poison was never going to hurt me, even if it was a fairly nasty strand," Missy assured her, patting her cheek. "You and I know there are very few things that could do me any real damage."

"Like aspirin," Charlie said without thinking, and Missy frowned at her in the same instant that Charlie clapped her hands over her mouth with horror. The room was large but silent, and there was no doubt that everyone had heard what she had said. "Oh stars, Mum, I'm sorry-"

Missy laid a hand on her shoulder and brushed off some imaginary dirt. "It's alright, kit, I doubt any of this lot know what aspirin translates to in their terms for chemical compounds. All the same, it's not information you should be sharing, but you realised your mistake, so no real harm done."

"I think we should go anyway," Charlie said, biting her lip.

"Nonsense, they haven't even brought us the dessert yet," Missy replied sharply. "The whole reason we came was the ice cream filled six tier cake."

"I'd rather be sure we're okay."

Missy smiled. "You're sweet, dearest, but we're fine. Hey, you, crying one with the pigtails, bring me a cocktail sans arsenic, thank you. It quite ruined the flavour and I'm still thirsty."

The young woman stared at her.

"Are you braindead, monkey, or trying my patience?" Missy asked. "Chop chop."

The human snapped to attention and hurried off to the kitchen, while Missy sighed melodramatically and tapped her fingers neatly on the table until the woman returned with a cocktail more or less identical to the last.

"I'm sorry," the human stammered.

"Well, good, but at least it's here, that's something," Missy told her, smiling in a condescending way and taking a large gulp of the drink. "Hmm. Much better. See what happens when you just do as you're told? You end up not-"

Charlie, who had been hoping for a humorous ending to the sentence, frowned as her mother abruptly stopped and touched a hand to her throat.

"Oh," Missy whispered, looking rather shocked and something very close to dismayed.

"Mum," Charlie said, concerned. Missy's eyes had began to droop, but she still found the time to throw the glass and its remaining contents at the woman who had given it to her. A woman who now had a fierce triumph in her eyes and barely flinched when the glass shattered against her shoulder.

"Smarter than you look, monkey," Missy murmured, eyes on her before they turned to Charlie. Her hand grasped at Charlie's shirt with a hold weak enough to send fear shooting through the girl's body. "Aspirin."

The fear turned to terror in her blood. For a moment, Charlie couldn't breathe as the implications set in and Missy's body started to slump against her.

The room was still as Charlie found herself looking at the waitress, horror and anger flooding through her. Everyone seemed to be waiting to see what she would do. Problem was that Charlie had no idea. She'd had her fair share of test runs, but nothing like this had ever happened. She'd always known that her mother would be there for backup the moment she needed it. But not this time. This wasn't a test run. This was a test, from the universe.

 _What would Mum do_?  _Kill them all._

_What would Dad do? Trick them all, or talk them down?_

_What will_ I  _do_?

Charlie's hearts hammered against her chest, and her hands shook as she reached into Missy's coat and pulled out the disintegrator. She took a deep breath to dispel the less helpful emotions and their physical manifestations. 

With steady hands and gaze, Charlie pointed it at the waitress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist a cliffhanger, even if this isn't quite the one I had planned. I promise to not keep y'all hanging too long, I'm hitting a bit more of a stride with this fic again which is a relief. (Just got to get through one more month of uni.) 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, please let me know what you thought in a comment! Even if it's just to yell about the cliffhanger lmao


	18. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has to make her first big decision on her own, and with that might come lying to her father while her mother lies on her deathbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the cliffhanger! But hey, at least I haven't kept you waiting too long this time! Hope it lives up to whatever expectations you might have had.

No one moved. No one spoke. The waitstaff against the walls of the room watched, too caught up in it all or perhaps too afraid to move, or to breathe.

To her credit, the waitress didn't react to a steely eyed ten year old holding a disintegrator at her in any more extreme a way than twitching her eyebrow and swallowing hard. But then, this was a woman who had had the nerve to poison someone who had killed the last person to make the same attempt.

Charlie held her grip on the device firm, probably too firm, her knuckles turning white as she tried to breathe and keep panic from taking her over. It wasn't easy. Her mother was fast losing consciousness, her weight pressing on Charlie more with every passing second.

"You're not going to use that," the waitress said to Charlie, slowly.

Charlie clenched her jaw, fighting against her own emotions to stay in control, like she knew she needed to be. "You just poisoned my mum. She's one of the most powerful people in the universe, and she's taught me a lot. You don't… you don't know anything about what I might do."

The waitress, finally, looked a bit unnerved.

Charlie used her free hand to get a good hold on her mother and ensure she was taking some of her weight, before sliding out of the booth. By some kind of godsend, Missy was still at least partly conscious - albeit by this point almost completely delirious -and able to partially support herself. It was still difficult to move forward, though, when Charlie had to keep the disintegrator at the ready.

"You're going to let us leave, right now," Charlie said, trying to put a bit of command into her voice, but she was out of practice. It had been a while she'd been a princess on any of Missy's conquered planets. "I'll shoot anyone who tries to stop us."

That wasn't exactly true; Charlie was not at all sure she actually had what it took to disintegrate someone with a single button push. But she'd managed to get the words out with an even, vaguely confident tone, and had fixed her eyes on several of the servers who looked more likely to try and move as she half dragged her mother towards the door.

Those servers hesitated, and she felt a brief rush of pride that they'd actually believed her, at least enough to reconsider their course of action.

"Are we really just going to let them leave?" someone asked.

"What's the alternative? You want to hurt a kid?"

"The kid who is threatening to shoot us and stood by while her mother killed eighty percent of the people in the room, you mean?"

"Still."

All the servers exchanged uncertain looks, and Charlie felt a sense of relief as she and Missy reached the door. She got Missy partly behind her and backed out with the disintegrator pointed at the room until the doors shut.

The TARDIS was just down the corridor, and Charlie was able to get Missy back into it, but she had to set Missy down on the floor because she'd mostly lost consciousness.

Charlie went to the console and found the list of preprogrammed destinations, that Missy had programmed the ship to be able to go to without her guidance, and considered the options before selecting the Eye of Orion.

She dropped to the floor next to Missy as the ship jerked in flight, and her hand touched Missy's face. She was getting colder and colder to the touch, and was now completely out cold. She was still breathing, though, just with some difficulty. Charlie watched her for a while and was relieved to see that she didn't seem to be declining anymore.

When the ship landed, Charlie pulled Missy out onto the grass and against the TARDIS, which was now disguised as a large boulder. Once she was sure that Missy was still somewhat stable, Charlie reached for the locket around her neck and opened it for the first time since she had received it.

"Please," she whispered as she pressed the button inside and it let out a soft and steady pulse. "Please work. Please come."

She waited, gripping Missy's hand all the while, and felt tears spring to her eyes when thirty seconds had passed to no avail.

Just when the panic threatened to resurface and drag despair up with it, a familiar wheezing filled the air and the shape of the blue police box began to appear around them, dangerously close to the other TARDIS.

When the materialisation was complete, Charlie was in the console room and staring up at the Doctor and Clara, who were looking at her with worry only then to notice Missy.

"Please, she needs you, she needs a Doctor," Charlie pleaded, feeling the tears come for real.

The Doctor dropped to the floor next to her and examined Missy. "She's in a healing coma, but it's only slowing whatever is happening, she's still rapidly deteriorating-"

"It's aspirin poisoning," Charlie told him. "And it's all my fault."

The Doctor swallowed, alarm crossing his face for a single instant before he managed to hide it. Charlie had still seen it, though, and tried not to let it worry her further. It wasn't as though she didn't  _know_ how serious aspirin poisoning was, after all.

"Clara, help me carry her to the sick bay," the Doctor said, going to lift Missy by the shoulders.

Clara hesitated.

The Doctor stared at her for a moment before lifting Missy into his arms and carrying her out of the console room on his own. Charlie hurried after him, and Clara after her. They came into the infirmary as the Doctor was laying Missy on the bed there and starting to hook several scanners into her.

"Aspirin poisoning is… really bad, right?" Clara asked, leaning against the doorway while Charlie went to the bedside. "For a Time Lord."

"It suspends the regeneration process," the Doctor said, moving to a small chemistry station and starting to mix together a solution. "So, yes. If I can't find something to counteract the compound, it won't just be fatal, it'll be terminal."

"Is there a difference?" Clara asked. He just lifted his eyebrows at her. "Right, so… terminal is Time Lord code for  _dead_ dead, then?"

"Can you do it, though? Is she going to be okay?" Charlie asked the Doctor.

"There's no one more capable of managing to survive against the odds, I'll be damned if she dies from something as mundane as aspirin poisoning," he replied without looking up from the beaker he was stirring.

Charlie nodded and tried to take deep breaths.

"What happened?" the Doctor asked a moment later.

Charlie realised that he probably wouldn't approve if he knew exactly what they had been doing, and decided to gloss over the details.

"She made some people angry. They tried to poison her with arsenic but it didn't do much, but then I accidentally told them what could actually hurt her," Charlie said quietly. "That's why this is my fault."

"You aren't the one who poisoned her, so it isn't your fault, kit," the Doctor replied.

"But if I hadn't said-"

"Charlie," Clara said, kneeling so that their eyes were more level, planting her hand on Charlie's shoulders. "If there's one thing I've learned after all this time travelling with your dad, it's that you can't let yourself get caught up with  _if_ s. It's enough to drive anyone mad, wondering what  _might_ have happened if one little thing had been different, and what else might have been different because of that, and so on. This is just something that happened. You didn't give her the poison. It's not your fault."

Charlie swallowed and nodded, trying her hardest to believe in what Clara was saying. It made sense, after all, but she couldn't help the twisting in her stomach that she just knew would continue to tell her that this was her fault.

The machines hooked up to Missy started beeping frantically, making them all jump, and Charlie felt like her hearts were in her throat.

"Clara, go to the kitchen, find me some chocolate, simplest form you can, and bring it back here as quick as you can," the Doctor told Clara.

"What? Why?"

"What I'm doing will take too long, we're just going to have to hope the simple triglycerides do the trick. Now go!"

Clara dashed from the room, and Charlie meanwhile gripped Missy's hand. It was as cold as ice, without the burning sensation, and Charlie bit her lip again.

"Please, Mum, please be okay," she said, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. "You're my best friend."

The Doctor knelt next to Charlie and she was quick to launch herself into his arms and cry, while he stroked her hair and murmured reassurements in Gallifreyan. The familiar smell of him calmed her a little and so she forced herself to take steady breaths of it.

Clara returned with the chocolate not long after, and the Doctor immediately got to work boiling the chocolate in a beaker until it was a thin liquid. Once it was done, he poured it down Missy's throat.

"Come on, Koschei," he murmured, as he stood over her, watching for a response.

Charlie couldn't even find the words to speak. She was stuck staring at her mother, willing her to move, to breathe, to speak, to not feel as cold as a corpse.  _Please. Please._

The stark silence was broken by a rapid torrent of Gallifreyan obscenities.

Missy lurched into a sitting position, coughing so hard it sounded like she could be in danger of displacing a lung, and speaking so quickly and so furiously in Gallifreyan that Charlie could only make out about one word in five - though that could be that they sounded like some of the worst curse words Missy had taught her, and surely Missy knew more than she had let on.

"Word of advice," Missy said to the Doctor, "don't ever get aspirin poisoning. It's rubbish. Not even a little bit sexy. Now, the arsenic, that was very sexy, had this little lovely aftertaste and kick that gave one of my hearts a right time for a couple of seconds there."

"I'll keep it in mind," the Doctor replied, his worry having rapidly melted into a quiet, reluctant amusement.

"Mum, you're okay," Charlie said, nearly sobbing again, and she buried her head in Missy's lap.

"Oh, kit, I probably gave you a real scare, hmm?" Missy asked. "You know, I can't remember how I got here. How  _did_ we get out of that restaurant?"

Charlie bit her lip. "That's not important. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Of course I am, thanks to you," Missy said to her, hands lifting Charlie's head so that they could cup her face and push her curls behind her ears. "I might not know what happened exactly, but I know you must have saved me. Called your dad for help, somehow, which was of course the smart thing to do."

The Doctor stepped forward and put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Of course she did. She knew she needed a Doctor." Missy rolled her eyes, at least until the Doctor's other hand touched her arm for a moment. She looked at him with vague surprise. "Glad you're alright, Koschei," he said quietly, in Gallifreyan.

She smiled at him, just a fraction, just for a moment, before it faltered."Hang on a moment, I'm supposed to be cross with you," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Furious, even."

The Doctor huffed. "I'm going to pretend I heard a 'thank you, Doctor, for saving my life, for at least the twelfth time', in there somewhere."

Missy leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Doctor," she murmured, in a strangely low tone of voice that Charlie swore made the Doctor actually shiver for a moment, even if she had no idea why. "May we stay for the night?"

"Your TARDIS is parked right outside," Clara said, frowning.

"Is it? Good to know, but honestly, I'm still feeling rather light-headed, I think I should probably stay right here for now," Missy said, leaning against the Doctor and faking a large yawn. "Hmm. Yes, little sleepover, what do you think, Doctor? Your puppy doesn't like me, but sometimes tough love is the only way to train pets, you know."

"Doctor, seriously, not long ago we were trying to take Charlie away from her, and now you're going to let her stay the night?" Clara asked.

"Since we tried to take Charlie away, both Charlie and Missy have nearly died, either due to my actions or right in front of me, so yes, I'm letting them stay," the Doctor told Clara, sighing. "I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I can take you home, if you like."

Clara looked between Charlie and Missy, visibly torn between her care for the former and disdain of the latter. "I suppose I should stay and make sure you don't do anything stupid," she said with a sigh.

"No one can make sure of that, puppy, it's just what he  _does_ ," Missy replied, adjusting her collar and brushing invisible dust off of her skirts.

"I'm still in the room, you know," the Doctor said to them, frowning.

"It's okay, Dad, I don't think you're stupid," Charlie told him, smiling. "Especially not since you saved Mum. I think you're really clever - you're just also very silly."

The Doctor couldn't smother his grin. "Well, yes, I am rather. And I will continue to be so as long as you enjoy my being silly, and probably a fair while after." Charlie giggled, and Missy rolled her eyes again, but this time with obvious fondness. "Clara, why don't you and Charlie go and play a board game or something? Get reacquainted. I'm sure Charlie has some interesting stories to tell, and that she's missed you."

"I do, and I have," Charlie said to Clara, able to finally take an interest in her again now that the panic about Missy being danger was gone. She  _had_ missed Clara a lot. It had been over a year since they were able to talk properly, for Charlie, at least. "What game should we play?"

"I'm sure we can find something," Clara said, taking her hand and mouthing ' _thanks, and please don't do anything stupid_ ' at the Doctor over her shoulder as they made their way out.

* * *

Missy watched the puppy lead her daughter out of the infirmary, conflicted about Clara Oswald getting any extended period of time with Charlie, where she might put all sorts of unacceptable ideas into Charlie's young mind.

On the other hand, now she was alone with the Doctor, and actually in a mood to do something about that.

"Thank you, Doctor, for saving my life," she said as her hand slid up the arm of his hoodie. "Now, I'm not one for owing favours, me, at least not ones I tend to honour, with I rather have to with you. So, what do you think, should I… make it up to you?"

The Doctor swallowed. "You just nearly died. This is hardly the time."

"Oh, I'm fine now, those triglycerides fixed me right up," Missy said flippantly, and she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her chest, underneath the jacket. "There. Double heartbeat, practically back to normal."

Her fingers trailed over his hand lightly, the perfect pressure to sensitise his skin, while she shifted the hand's location slightly to one side.

The Doctor quickly took his hand back, cheeks pink. "No, Missy. Not here. The door's open, for a start."

Missy felt him up until she found the sonic in his jacket, and sonicked the door shut and double locked. Then she set the screwdriver aside, and kissed the Doctor firmly. He kissed her back, on reflex, but was definitely also trying to push her away.

"Missy-" He made a delicious noise when she nibbled his neck a little - reluctant and embarrassed and hopelessly turned on all at once. "Missy, at least can we go to my-"

Missy had already dropped to her knees and pulled down his trousers on the way down, and she smirked before ensuring he wouldn't be capable of rational thought for the next half an hour.

* * *

"You play a mean game of checkers, kid," Clara told Charlie as she tucked her into bed in a bedroom that wasn't as dusty as Charlie's brain felt it should be, even though she knew the time passed differently for the TARDIS, especially when the ship was on a different interweaving timeline.

"You weren't too bad, don't worry," Charlie said, laughing.

Clara shook her head. "You're already  _way_  too smart for your own good."

"Do you think so?" Charlie asked, looking pleased. She  _had_ carefully hidden the knife that had still been on her person when she had gotten changed just now. "I know I'm smarter than a lot of people, but there's no such thing as being  _too_ smart, right?"

"With your parents? I guess not," Clara admits. "Just… try to not let it go to your head, okay? They're both insufferable when it comes to their genius egos."

Charlie knew the meanings of the words separately, but couldn't quite fathom Clara's exact meaning by combining them. Still, it had been a long day, and she'd nearly shot some people, and Missy had nearly died, and now probably wasn't the time to expand her vocabulary functions.

"I'll try," Charlie told Clara. "Goodnight."

Clara kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Charlie. It's good to see you again. Love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

Clara tried very hard to mind her own business when Missy strolled into the kitchen the next morning like she owned the place, but that was very difficult when she was wearing one of the Doctor's old shirts. Her hair was loose, and she was barefoot and humming, and for a split second Clara looked at her and felt a glimmer of attraction, of understanding of what the Doctor found so hard to resist.

Then her sense returned and she went back to scowling into her cup of tea.

"Calm it with the murderous thoughts, pup, I can hear you from over here, and murder is more of a noon-onwards activity," Missy said from the kitchen, making Clara jump.

The Doctor and Charlie came in then, and Clara made sure to glare at the Doctor and nod towards Missy and the shirt, so that he could see how unimpressed she was. It was satisfying to see him turn bright crimson and start talking to Charlie in order to avoid her gaze. At least he had the decency to be embarrassed.

"Morning!" Charlie said to Clara cheerfully, as she came to sit in the seat next to her. "Dad says he's going to make omelettes. I'm excited. Mum's no good at cooking, we always have to go out if we want to eat. But this is nice."

"Yeah, peachy," Clara muttered, only to take one look at how Charlie's happiness seemed to falter at her words, and curse herself. "Sorry, Charlie. I'm not being much fun, am I? I'll be fun from now on, I promise."

"Okay," Charlie said, smiling.

"So, what exactly were you two up to yesterday that led to you getting poisoned?" the Doctor asked Missy. "Charlie wasn't exactly helpful when it came to details."

"Because she was more worried about me dying, I expect," Missy replied, rolling her eyes, but shooting Charlie a wink when the Doctor wasn't looking, making Clara narrow her eyes. "Honestly, Thete, it's not an interesting story. We were just having lunch, and then the next thing you know, the waiters are trying to poison us. You know how it is."

"No, we don't, because that kind of thing doesn't just happen," Clara said, frowning at her. "What did you do?"

"Don't be ridiculous, puppy, you travel the universe enough and every kind of thing  _just_ happens," Missy snapped. "Besides, it's always  _my_ activities getting inquired about. What have  _you two_  been up to? Probably saved a couple of dozen worlds before teatime, the usual. Anyone else start worshipping Eyebrows yet?"

"Only the one colony," the Doctor muttered into his coffee, making Missy snort.

* * *

The omelettes were delicious, of course, and Charlie had forgotten how good her father's cooking was and how much she had missed it until she was staring at her empty plate in mourning, thinking about the protein cubes she was going to be eating for breakfast again soon enough.

"Alright, kit, we're leaving in an hour, you have things you need to be doing," Missy said as she got up from the table, and the Doctor did the same.

"You have no shame," Clara muttered to the latter as he stood, and Charlie frowned in their general direction, not understanding.

The Doctor pointedly ignored Clara's comment, and followed Missy out of the room. Clara looked a bit green as she watched him go, and sure enough, she pushed the remainder of her omelette away from her.

"Are you going to eat that?" Charlie asked, eyeing it.

"Nope, seem to have lost my appetite," Clara replied, sliding the plate in front of her. Her frown mostly faded when Charlie started eating the food at rapidfire pace. "Glad you haven't, though."

"What are they doing, that you're so unhappy about?" Charlie asked. "I feel like I'm missing something really obvious."

Panic flashed across Clara's face. "Wow, okay, no, I'm not having this conversation. I already know for a fact that I'm  _not_ the one that has this conversation with you. You need to ask your mum, okay?"

Charlie shrugged. "Okay."

"And for the record, I am  _really_ sorry in advance."

Charlie wasn't quite sure what that meant, but the look of sympathy of Clara's face made her a little worried.

They spent the rest of the remaining hour playing checkers, and Charlie managed to win both games again, which was immensely satisfying. After that, they met up with the Doctor and Missy back in the console room. Missy was now properly dressed and looking remarkably content for some reason, stretching her body like a cat and making sure to smirk when she caught Clara's eye.

"Well, thanks for the lifesaving and the sleepover," Missy said to the Doctor, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "Can't say I'll make a habit of it, though."

"Just try and stay away from aspirin, yeah?" he asked, glancing at Charlie.

"Of course, I'm not an imbecile," Missy replied.

Charlie ran to them and hugged the Doctor tightly around the waist, and using her free arm to pull Missy into it. Neither of them resisted her, and she found herself at least partially enveloped into a hug from both of her parents, for the first time she could really remember.

"I love you guys," she said to them. "Thank you, Dad, I was really scared but I should have known you'd be able to make it all okay."

"Well, I do my best." He ruffled her hair as they pulled away, and smiled at her. "You take care of yourself, kit. And try not to let her drag you into anything too dangerous, yeah?"

Charlie laughed. "I can promise the first one, but the second one doesn't seem like it will last."

"She'll be fine, she'll be with me," Missy said firmly, putting a hand on her shoulder to make a point.

The Doctor, thankfully, looked genuinely reassured by this, if still a little worried, and nodded. "Well, hopefully we can see you two again soon, under similarly… non-violent circumstances."

"No promises," Missy told him, in a near echo of her daughter's words. "Until the next time, Thete."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!


	19. An Unlikely Partnership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie gets given her first proper responsibility, and takes some liberties with it. This doesn't go down too well with her mother, but might just win her an unlikely friend elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon, on tumblr: when will you update
> 
> me: ah see I'm really busy atm so probs not for a few weeks at the very least
> 
> me, less than 24 hours later: whoops I wrote 3k instead of doing my essay

"Why are we taking orders from a ten year old, again?"

"Because she's got a disintegrator."

"Do you really think she'll actually use it?"

"After she watched her batshit mum atomise the captain and first officer? I'm not taking any chances."

The ten year old in question frowned at them. "You know I can hear you, right?"

The two crew members who had been talking, a pair of brothers called Cail and Dun - the former short haired and burly and the latter a lean brunet with a ponytail - glanced at each other warily.

"My apologies, Miss - er, Mistress - sorry, how are we supposed to address you?" Cail asked.

The ten year old giggled, the way a normal one might at the sight of a puppy doing something silly. On this one it was unnerving, because it made him want to let his guard down, when he knew this child was anything  _but_ normal.

Nothing about this was normal. It wasn't  _normal_  for some weird woman with an umbrella and a disintegrator to be able to just  _arrive_  on a secured space station colony and take complete control in a manner of hours. The kid just made the whole thing weirder.

"My mum is the Mistress," the girl said to them. "You can just call me Miss Charlie."

"Right-o, Miss Charlie," Cail replied, and she smiled.

"You can keep supervising the weapons hand-in now," she said pleasantly, nodding towards the men who were placing their blasters in a larger container.

Unfortunately, some idiot, upon getting close to the front of the line, broke from his blank mask of resignation and tried to take a shot at the girl.

The weapon did nothing.

While the man started to panic and kept trying to fire, Charlie merely sighed.

"You really weren't  _listening_ to that broadcast from the bridge when we first arrived, were you?" she asked, looking disappointed. "We jammed all of the weapons frequencies. The only things that will work are the things that me and Mum have."

She held up the device in her hands and Cail felt a jolt of alarm as he watched the man who had outstepped fall to the ground. Dun rushed to his side, only to let out a breath of relief.

"He's alive," he said.

"I only stunned him," Charlie told them. "But if it was my mum, she would have killed him. If everyone else is  _really_  good at following her instructions for this, though, I won't tell her about this, okay?"

Everyone in line nodded, and they picked up the pace until the weapons were all in the container and sealed off.

"Great," Charlie said, beaming. "Now, everyone needs to sleep. There are big plans for tomorrow, and everyone should get some rest."

Most, understandably, eyed her warily but began to move off and do as she had suggested. She went back to typing something into the communicator, and then setting the combination on the keypad of the container of weapons. She was humming to herself all the while, some catchy tune that Cail didn't remotely recognise.

He found himself hanging back, and upon noticing this, Dun did the same.

"What are you doing?" Dun asked, frowning at him.

"Plotting," Cail murmured, feeling his lips twitch. "You realise just what a pile of shit we've landed ourselves in, right?"

"Takeover of the psychotic umbrella bitch and her weird kid? No kidding," Dun replied. He gave his brother a suspicious, but also infinitely curious look. "What are you planning?"

"Well, brother, think about it," Cail said, "what's easier? Taking out a completely ruthless woman who seems like she's been slaughtering people for fun for years, or slowly wearing down her kid in some way?"

Dun's eyebrows lifted. "That's… not a bad point, actually."

"What are you two talking about?" They looked up to see Charlie with her head cocked slightly, regarding them. "I did ask you to leave. I was pretty nice about it too, and I didn't have to be."

"That's actually why I hung back," Cail replied, stepping forward. "I just wanted to say thank you. For doing what your mother wouldn't have, and sparing that man's life. It's more appreciated than you know. We've lost so many already today, with your mother's earlier demonstration."

She blinked at him with obvious surprise, and then looked a bit uncomfortable. "Oh. Well, you're welcome. I just - everyone makes dumb mistakes sometimes. I don't think people should have to die for that. He'll need to make sure it doesn't happen again, though."

"We'll do our best to ensure it doesn't."

"Good."

"Perhaps, if we do our best to ensure a lack of resistance on our people's part, you could in return try to be lenient with any who  _do_  step out of turn?" Cail asked.

Charlie frowned. "Except, the best way for people to not step out of line is for them to know that they would be punished severely if they do, isn't it? That's just logical."

"They don't need to  _know_  you've agreed on lenience, we could tell them the opposite," Cail pointed out.

"You want to  _lie_  to our people, Cail?" Dun asked him, looking at him like he had gone mad.

"What if I tell them, I overheard you getting reprimanded for being lenient today, and thus we have to be careful about stepping out of line," Cail said, his mind almost moving faster than his mouth, "then, if you  _are_  lenient when it inevitably happens, they'll think you were all the braver for doing it. It may win you favour among them, which would surely keep you that little bit safer from possible harm."

He wasn't sure he had ever seen a child look as serious as the one in front of him as she considered this. Then again, it would probably be all the more unsettling if she didn't take it seriously.

"It definitely would be good if they liked me," Charlie admitted. "That never hurts. It's very sneaky. I like it."

"You'd have to keep this from your mother, if she's just likely to kill them if she finds out about anyone stepping out," Dun told her.

"I know," she said, sounding offended that he didn't think she had realised as much. "But… it seems fair, doesn't it? You lie to your people, I hide the truth from my mum, when I can. It should help keep everyone safer, in the end, right?"

"Safe and compliant," Dun muttered.

Charlie stared at him and crossed her arms. "Do you have a better idea?" He opened his mouth. "That would actually work?"

"Why should we trust you?"

"Well-" An odd look crossed her face, confusion melding with the pensiveness. "Wait. Why does it  _matter_? What could I do? Tell my mum that you're going to stop your people from fighting back? That's not even a bad thing!  _I'm_ the one who might get in trouble, for being too nice! The worst thing for you that I could do is - the worst I could do is be as harsh as she is, and I could do that anyway!"

She was worked up now, her arms gesturing and her voice louder and her blue eyes flashing.

"Hey, shush, it's fine, and you're right, just keep your voice down, yeah?" Cail reminded her. "We'll all be in the shit if anyone overhears this."

"Right, sorry," she said, bashfully, once again just for a moment looking like a normal child who had done something silly. "What were your names?"

"Cail Arden, and this is my brother, Dun."

She smiled, and held her hand out to him. It was so small and pale compared to his large, dark olive one, but he shook it as seriously as he would the hand of anyone else. After all, despite her appearance, this was surely easily the most serious deal he had ever made in his life. Lives were on the line here.

"It's nice to meet you, Cail. Let's see if we can stop people getting hurt for stupid reasons."

* * *

It was not a plan without its faults, but for the most part, it actually  _worked_.

Dun mostly just kept his mouth shut, which suited Cail and Charlie fine. Cail did his best to stop his people from trying to fight back, and Charlie for the most part managed to keep any failings on his part from reaching her mother, and her leniency did not go unappreciated.

"If we ever  _do_  manage to overthrow the bitch, we don't hurt the kid," Cail heard someone say.

"She's still evil! She's just evil in training!"

"She's never actually killed anyone."

"That  _you_  know of."

Three months into the occupation, Cail was taken by surprise when he passed Charlie in a hallway and she pulled him into the nearest storage room. Well, actually, that wasn't the surprising part, since it was their usual meeting place, but the fact that she looked worried was extremely unusual _._

"I think my mum knows," she told him, looking worried.

"Why do you think that?"

"She's sent me a message saying she wants to talk to me on the bridge, alone," Charlie said, swallowing. "She sounded… well, I don't know, if she just sounded angry, I don't think I would be too worried. But she was quiet. That's  _worse_. So I hacked the bridge systems, to see what she's been looking up, to see why she might be angry. And she's been looking up security feeds. I think she's seen that I haven't been tough on people, or she's about to."

"Is she seriously going to get angry at you for not killing people?"

"No, but for not reporting the incidents to her, so she could maybe do it, I think she might."

Cail finally processed something she'd said earlier and blinked at her. "Hang on, did you just say that you  _hacked_  the bridge system-"

"What? That's not important right now!" Charlie told him, looking at him like he was insane.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he groaned, pinching his nose before looking at her with a vague concern, which was an beyond odd emotion to recognise in himself in regards to her, given the circumstances. "Are you going to be alright?"

Charlie looked confused again. "Yes, of course I am. But I don't know if everyone else will be."

"Well, if you care about any of us at all, I suppose you're going to have to go in there and either stand your ground or do something clever," Cail told her.

She bit her lip, forehead creasing again. "Or both."

* * *

It was difficult to not be extremely anxious as Charlie made her way towards the bridge. It was hard to know exactly why, since she knew that Missy would never hurt her, and that ultimately it wouldn't matter that much for her personally if the people in the section she had been so far responsible for were harmed after this conversation to make up for Charlie's shortcomings.

It was the failure. The tightness in her throat as she imagined her mother looking at her with disappointment, or worse, like she was stupid. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to bear that.

The doors opened ahead of her before she could make her way to the keypad that had a DNA lock so that no one could enter the bridge that Missy did not want. Missy could sense her proximity.

Charlie walked into the room, head held as high as she could, back as straight as Missy had once taught her to hold it. Missy was sitting in the captain's chair directly opposite the entrance, draped across it sideways in the way she was so fond of. This was usually paired with a good mood and a smile at the sight of Charlie.

Not today.

"Hello, kit," Missy said. It lacked its usual warmth. It wasn't  _quite_  cold, either. It was curious, and cautious, and paired with slightly narrowed eyes. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Charlie crossed her arms. "You can just admit that you know. It will save time. I don't want to play the game you play with other people."

Missy's eyebrow arched. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have been playing a game of your own."

"I thought that was the point of all this, to teach me how to play my own games."

"Don't talk back to me, Charlotte," Missy snapped, with just enough bite to make Charlie flinch and have to resist the urge to step backward. "You've been covering up rebellions in your sector."

"One or two people trying to take stupid opportunities and failing every time isn't a rebellion," Charlie said, standing her ground with all the willpower she had. "I stopped them every time."

"But you never killed them or reported them to me - with the exception of that one who went so berserk you had to call me to neutralise him."

"Maybe I don't think people should have to die just because they're scared," Charlie told her. "Maybe I don't think-"

"Since when have I ever given you the impression I care what anyone thinks who isn't me?" Missy asked, voice hard and cold.

Charlie did recoil properly that time, feeling like the icy words had physically slapped her across the face. She couldn't move, or speak. Betrayal flooded her veins like poison, made more potent by confusion and disbelief.

She had never had any grandiose ideas about being some kind of criminal mastermind, not even in these last couple of months when she  _had_  felt rather clever in her little scheme with Cail. But she had never,  _ever_  felt like Missy didn't value her opinion.

Against her permission, tears pricked at her eyes.

Missy's expression slowly shifted, softened, and she got up from the captain's chair and approached Charlie, who stiffened as she got closer.

"Oh, kit, I didn't mean that, I'm sorry," she said, getting onto her knees in front of Charlie and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I think you did mean it," Charlie whispered.

"No, kit, I didn't, I promise," Missy assured her, eyes wide and open with genuine repentance. "I don't mean to be cross, darling, I'm just so confused. But I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have ever, ever said that. I always care what you think. I've been all these years teaching you so that everything you think will be something spectacular. And you and your father are the only ones who I hold in that regard, in the whole universe."

"But you think you always know best," Charlie said, sniffing.

"Well, I'm your mother, of course I know best," Missy said, patting her hair, and then making a face. "Not to mention, I'm a highly egotistical and psychopathic recreational conqueror. Of course I think everyone else's ideas are pants. But you're part of me. So your ideas are, almost always, not usually pants."

"Not usually?"

"Well, you're ten years old, you're allowed a margin of error, at least for the moment," Missy said, before spreading her hands in a dismissive gesture. "Hell, I'm over 1000 years old and still sometimes manage to make a complete noodle of myself in front of your father. I pretend I don't, but I do. Frankly, the most annoyingly saintly thing he's ever done is never really given me hell for all the times I've failed spectacularly." She laughed oddly and slapped her knee through her dress. "Oh boy, there's been some real shockers, too."

"You've failed?"

"So many times," Missy assured her, with an odd, amused smile and a shake of her head. "It's part of my game with your father, these days, I think. But when we fail, we get up - or failing that, resurrect ourselves into a weird gooey snake - and find a way to keep going, to keep trying."

Charlie frowned at her. "I'm confused. Where does the snake fit in?"

"Oh, you never mind that."

"... okay."

"My point is, poppet, that it's okay if you mucked this up, but I want to know why you did it," Missy said to her, quietly, holding her gaze and one of her hands. "Can you tell me that?"

"I made a deal, with one of the people in the sector," Charlie explained. "If I helped make sure no one got too hurt if people acted out, he'd tried to make sure no one did in the first place, by telling people I got in trouble for not being more like you the first time it happened, and would have to be more strict. Then, when I  _wasn't_ mean about it if they did still do something, everyone would think I was being brave to help them, and they'd like me. It was meant to make it easier, to have less people fighting back, and to make me a little bit safer. And it's worked, I think, at least the first bit. I checked your logs for the other sectors and we've had half the number of incidents-"

"Yes, I know," Missy replied, surprising her. "I did wonder why that was. It's certainly not the answer I was expecting. Rather intricate little idea."

"Well, I had help."

"From who?"

Charlie frowned at her. "If I tell you, are you going to get him in trouble? He's been really helpful, I don't want you to kill him."

"If he's been stopping his own people from fighting back against me, killing him would hardly benefit me, now would it?" Missy asked.

"... right," Charlie said, after thinking it over. "Still, can I  _not_  tell you?"

"Why?"

"Well, you have a lot of secrets. Can't I have one? Just for fun?"

Missy regarded her with amusement. "I suppose it wouldn't be too hard for me to find out if I really feel the need, anyway. Alright, Charlie girl, you can have your secret little conspirator for now."

"Really? Thanks!"

"I certainly never expected my daughter to keep people compliant by being nice," Missy said, blowing out a long breath that came very close to a raspberry. "What  _is_  the world coming to? Though, the niceness is a trick. But it  _isn't_. Hmm. You really have woven an interesting little net there, kit."

A moment later, Missy smiled and patted her cheek.

"So, you're not angry?" Charlie asked, to be sure. She had to be sure.

"I  _was_ , perhaps, when I didn't understand," Missy told her, brushing her thumb across Charlie's cheek. "But now I do. And how can I be angry when this is the first time you've properly sounded like your father's daughter as much as mine?"

"Oh," Charlie breathed. "Do you really - I don't think he'd agree with this at all."

"Probably not, but all the same: niceness, but also tricks?  _Very_  his style," Missy said, with a little smirk, and she got back to her feet. "You're turning into quite the delightful little hybrid." She snickered to herself. "Don't use that word around him, though, he always gets a bit funny about it."

"I don't think I like it either," Charlie said with a frown. "I'm not you, or him, I'm me."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Missy replied, fondly, "but that doesn't change the fact that you are quite literally a part of me and a part of him, and that will always be an important part of who you are." Her hand stroked over Charlie's hair. "And part of why you are singlehandedly the most important thing in this universe, as far as I'm concerned. Have I told you how much I love you, recently, kit?"

"I don't know," Charlie said, which was a lie. The last time had been two weeks beforehand, but she had been casual about it, which was rare for Missy and emotions like this.

"I'd tear the universe apart for you," Missy murmured, fingers trailing down the side of her cheek, eyes enraptured by something in Charlie's face, almost unfocused. "You know that, don't you? I'd burn it all, tear it to pieces with my bare hands just for you. To find you, to keep you safe, or just if you asked me to."

Charlie swallowed. She never knew what to say, when her mother got like this. Soft and tactile, but in a way that reminded Charlie just how much of a cosmic force of nature her mother was capable of being. Although they wouldn't be easy, none of Missy's claims were out of the realms of reality.

"I don't want you to tear the universe apart for me," Charlie said. "I like the universe how it is."

Missy's lips twitched, and there was a flash of melancholy in her eyes. She partly turned away, and when she spoke, her voice was barely audible, with a quiet pain and longing.

"You really do sound just like him, sometimes."

With that, she turned around and headed for a control console. When she spoke next, she did it without turning around to look at Charlie.

"From what I can tell, your sector are starting to push back more, aren't they? No doubt because they're realising they're not going to get punished too badly - except for that one incident you  _did_ report."

"Yes," Charlie said, more than happy to return to the original topic of conversation. "We knew it would happen, but at least we managed to hold it off."

"Well, I understand why you did what you did, and I think it was an... interesting decision on your part, possibly even one that worked well for us, all things considered," Missy admitted. "But it ends now."

There was a finality to her tone that made it clear it wasn't up for debate. Charlie wasn't going to argue. Missy was right; the structure she had built with Cail was rapidly deteriorating.

"So now what?"

"Now, you report transgressions to me, as you were initially instructed to do."

Charlie knew she wasn't in trouble, not really, but there was a tiny edge to Missy's tone, the smallest of warnings that despite the outcome, she  _had_ deviated from those instructions and had to remember it wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"And what will happen to them? The people who… transgress."

"I'll kill them or lock them up in the engine room for manual labour, like I have with all the others," Missy said, shrugging. "Does it really matter?"

Charlie thought about it. "I suppose not," she said, more or less truthfully. "It's their fault, I guess. They must know what's going to happen by now, if they try it."

"Exactly. Now, run along, you have a sector to look after."

* * *

Cail waited anxiously for Charlie's return. It took a while, and it was difficult to hang around in Sector 8's mess hall with an eye on the main sector entrance without it looking weird, but he brought a holopad and pretended to watch some old documentary.

Finally, she wandered back in, as quietly assured in her manner as always. Her face was impossible to read - also common, unfortunately. She had the best poker face he'd ever seen on a preteen.

She met his eyes, just for a moment, and imperceptibly nodded towards the storage room where they'd talked earlier, and often had little discussions out of the eyes of others.

"What happened?" Cail asked, the moment he shut the door behind him.

She was sitting on a crate, looking extremely thoughtful about something. Swinging her legs like that, she almost looked like a normal kid. It was hard to remember that she wasn't, sometimes. She had her moments of laughing or missing something obvious that an adult never would, or offering a brilliant solution that an adult would never come up with. The emotional outbursts were there too, if much less frequent than in another child her age. But most of the time, those eyes were so sharp, so calm, and too far from what could ever be normal.

"It was nice while it lasted, but she knows," Charlie said, sighing.

"About all of it?"

"Yes."

"About me?"

A tiny smile quirked Charlie's lips, and she glanced up at him. "No, actually. She let me keep you a secret from her. Though she can probably find out easy enough."

"Still, that seems… surprising."

"I asked nicely," she said, like she had been making a case for a new doll and not the secrecy of an accomplice's name.

"What's going to happen?"

"This sector will have the same punishments as all the others, decided by Mum," Charlie said. "It's just that they'll be reported by me, the ones here. Like they were meant to be, this whole time."

"I suppose it's… difficult to argue with the fairness of that," Cail said, all at once feeling extremely tired. "I'm just worried Dun is going to get himself into trouble. You've seen what he's like, he's an idiot who thinks he could be a hero, and he's my brother, and I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, but-"

He can't bring himself to finish the sentence, the thought, not any of it.

"Is there any way you could help me keep him safe?" Cail asked. "I know it's a lot to ask, I know you've gotten in trouble already, but-"

"I will, if you help me keep my mum safe," Charlie said, eyes meeting his after having dropped to the floor again.

"Your… your mother? Miss Charlie, I understand how it must be for you, but you must understand that to me, she's the one that-"

"I'm not stupid, and I've got better hearing than people think," Charlie interrupted, scowling. "I know that everyone here wants her dead. I even understand why. And I'm sure it'll probably be fine, but not that long before we came here, she almost died, and it was the worst thing in the world. I  _can't_  do that again."

"I see," Cail said, as if there were any clarity to how he felt, to hearing how much this tyrant to his people was adored by her daughter, whom he in turn found himself with an odd almost-fondness for.

"My mum might hurt your brother," Charlie said. "Your brother, or people like him, might hurt my mum. But maybe we can try and help each other again. Help each other to stop something bad happening to our family."

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

Charlie bit her lip. "I think I was thinking… do you want to be… this is probably going to sound silly, but... my spy? You can tell me about any plans people are making, rebellious ones."

"So you can tell your mother? I can't agree to that and give up on my people's future freedom completely," Cail said, shaking his head.

"I only need to know if anyone is going to try and hurt her, you don't have to tell me anything else," Charlie pleaded. "And then I'll make sure you and your brother are safe from my mum, no matter what."

Cail had never paid much thought to the idea of 'making a deal with the devil'. He felt a connection to it that he never had before, though, as Charlie reached out her hand to him for the second time since they had met. There was no idiom for 'making a devil with the devil's more moderate daughter', after all. It just didn't quite have the same alarming ring to it.

All the same, Cail Arden had to wonder - as he thought about his brother and clasped the hand of this strange, eerie girl - whether this would be the choice that saved their lives, or doomed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! The second half of this little arc will take things in a very interesting direction, I think. Let me know what you thought!
> 
> (Seriously, pls, give me comments to keep my spirits up while I rush this essay now, whoops.)


	20. Foreboding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Cail make a good team of unknown peacekeepers on the space station - but between Charlie's mother, and Cail's brother, and a concerning late night visitor that sends Charlie into a spiral of worry, is it all doomed to fall apart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter went in an unexpected direction, and thus this storyline is not finished, and will be completed next chapter. Classic Aimee, really. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Cail Arden had never been a spy before. But he was fairly sure it wasn't meant to be fun. Surely it was meant to be difficult and upsetting, or at least just a bunch of secret meetings and exchanging of information.

He was definitely sure that it was not meant to involve a secret tea party in the Sector 8 storage room. Then again, he  _was_  spying for a morally ambiguous and almost definitely non-human ten year old whom he had become certain was already smarter and more learned than he could ever hope to be - a ten year old whose mother was the tyrant responsible for hundreds of deaths of Cail's peers, no less. It wasn't exactly a conventional situation.

"Where did you even  _get_  this?" he asked Charlie, who giggled into her cup in a way that, when they'd met six months ago, would have unnerved him completely. Now, gods help him, it was almost endearing.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," she said, grinning. From the mouth of her mother, it would not be a joke, and anyone who wasn't Cail would probably think it was a true danger from her as well.

Cail knew he couldn't let himself get completely comfortable around this girl, but he was, at this point, fairly sure that she would not do him harm except in perhaps the wildest of scenarios. Just as he would not do her harm except in such an instance.

"No murder jokes at this tea table, young lady," he scolded her, and she just giggled again.

"This isn't even a table, it's a container filled with rations."

"Then I'm sure there's a dining table analogy in there somewhere," he said seriously, and she blinked for a moment, processing his words. He was just about to explain - she was still a child, after all, even if that was sometimes easy to forget - when she let out a little peal of laughter.

"You're funny. I think you'd really like my dad."

Cail froze, mid-sip. Charlie had never mentioned her father before. Somehow, oddly, he'd never given much thought to the other parent, assuming there was one, except for passing thoughts that usually had him glad that if another parent existed, they were not involved in the space station's occupation, since they was probably a similar force to be reckoned with.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, trying to keep his voice and face casual, since she was munching on a biscuit like she'd not brought up anything of particular interest. "What's he like, then?"

"Silly, and clever," Charlie said, smiling. "And he gives the best hugs out of anyone I've ever met. I reckon  _probably_  in the whole universe, but I've not hugged everyone in the whole universe,  _obviously_ , so I can't really claim that even if I think I'm probably right."

"So where's he?"

Charlie shrugged. "I don't know. He's always travelling. I mean, me and Mum travel too, but we like to stop places, like here. Dad never stops moving."

"Does he visit?"

"Mum's mad at him, so she usually makes it so that he can't find us unless she wants him to," Charlie explained. "Hopefully I can see him soon, though. I miss him. And Clara." Upon seeing his confused look, she added, "Clara is Dad's friend. She's my friend too. She has the biggest eyes I've  _ever_  seen on a human!"

The earnest look on her face made Cail laugh.

"Oh yeah?"

"They're huge! Dad says they go  _bananas_  whenever she's feeling emotions, but I've never quite worked out what  _bananas_  means, because Mum says it about herself sometimes, and it seems weird to have any kind of word work for Mum  _and_  Clara, because they're so different-"

Charlie's ramble trailed off, and a deep frown creasing her forehead.

"You alright, kid?" The formalities of 'Miss Charlie' had long since left them, at least for when they were alone.

"I'm okay, I just-" Charlie chewed on her lip. "Mum and Clara  _aren't_  that different. Not in everything. They're both really pretty and clever - Mum is  _more_  clever, because Clara is just a human, but Clara's her own kind of clever. And they're both really strong, and they don't have a good - what's it called? Tolerance. They don't… tolerate nonsense. Well, Mum has her own kind of nonsense, but that's different."

"I have no idea what you're on about, but I'll assume you're right," Cail said, taking a large sip of tea and helping himself to a chocolate biscuit.

Charlie's cheeks coloured. "I'm sorry, it's just weird. They're always so against each other, I never thought about them being the same in some ways. But Clara is a lot like Dad, and I always knew Dad and Mum were like that." She sighed and rested her chin in her hand. "I don't know. This stuff is confusing. People are confusing. I wish we could all just get along. I hate not seeing Dad and Clara for months and months, but I don't know how we could ever do anything else."

"I guess your mum isn't big on sharing, huh."

Charlie shook her head. "Neither is Dad, really. Him and Mum don't agree enough."

Cail felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. As much as he knew he shouldn't, since she was an accomplice to some truly horrible things that had happened and some horrible things that were still happening, it sounded as though her life was complicated as hell.

If her father was anything like her mother, then it seemed like the poor kid was lucky to have her sanity.

"That must be hard," Cail said.

Charlie swallowed. "I don't know. Maybe. I'd never really thought about it much. It's just how things have always been. Sometimes I like to think about me and them and Clara all getting along and being able to do things together, like a family, but I know it won't ever happen. It just won't."

"Family's a tricky thing," Cail said, thinking of Dun and how it was getting harder and harder to talk him down from revolutionary action with each passing day. He had Charlie's promise that she would keep both of them safe, if something were to go wrong, but Cail had a handful of doubts about her influence over her mother - or rather, he was simply realistic about the multitude of things that could go wrong, even with Charlie's support/protection.

Not to mention, Cail would only be able to feed Charlie information for so long before Dun worked something out. He only fed her things pertaining to direct attempts on Missy or Charlie's lives, of which there had thankfully only been a few. They had actually managed to avoid the loss of life, him and Charlie, by managing to neutralise the threat without alerting Missy to it - or rather, Charlie had claimed the glory for stamping out rebellion when Missy had come to see what all the fuss was about.

Missy had been proud enough each time to not contest Charlie's non-fatal punishments for the rebels, for which Cail was relieved. But he knew that this pattern would not last, and that suspicion on both sides was bound to grow. This subterfuge was a ticking time bomb.

"Cail?"

Cail snapped back to attention. "Sorry, kid. What were you saying?"

"I was thinking I'd like to have a proper friend, for when family stuff is hard," Charlie said with a sigh. "But I'm always moving around, so it doesn't really work. I make friends, and then I always have to leave."

"Friendships can still be important even if they don't last," Cail told her. "Just because they don't last, doesn't mean they weren't good while it lasted."

"Yeah, that's true," Charlie said, looking a little brighter at the thought.

Cail lifted his tea cup. "To friends, then?"

"To friends," she agreed, clinking hers against his.

"May you find them and keep them where you least expect, Miss Charlie," he said, falling back on the propriety for effect. It made her laugh a little.

"I like the sound of that."

* * *

The captain's cabin of the space station  _Hermes_  was a large, luxurious space. It easily housed both Missy and Charlie, especially since they were both usually out doing things during the day. In the evenings that Charlie needed sleep - every couple of days, usually - Missy would tuck Charlie in with a kiss on the forehead and some absurd bedtime story.

She never repeated a story - not for the bedtime stories, not unless Charlie asked. Missy always had another story. Charlie could never be sure that they were entirely true, but they were all excellent stories all the same.

Once a week, roughly, Missy would need sleep too. She preferred to do one proper night's sleep every week or two as opposed to the tiny naps that the Doctor favoured.

So, once a week, they would curl up in the large bed together in comfy pajamas, and sleep soundly.

"Mum?"

For the first time ever, Charlie had a feeling that she had woken up first.

"Hmm?"

Charlie rolled over so that she could see Missy's face, surrounded by a mess of dark hair that was thicker than her own but not as long or curly. Her mum was oddly serene, in her sleep.

"We need to get up," Charlie told her.

"Soon," Missy murmured, her Scottish accent incredibly thick. "Soon. We're the bosses here, we can get up when we want."

Charlie reached out to bop Missy on the nose, which made the Time Lady wrinkle it and crack open an eye.

"What the  _hell_  was that?" she asked, voice as affronted as it was sleepy, which made for a rather amusing and endearing combination, in Charlie's eyes.

Charlie just giggled. "You're cute when you're sleepy."

"I am the mistress of chaos and evil in the universe," Missy grumbled, rolling over so that her back was to Charlie. "And you are very lucky that you are one of only two people that is allowed to call me cute without risking dismemberment. Actually, the only person, your father is too smug to get away with it without me at least  _trying_  on principle."

Charlie leaned over her and grinned. "It's okay, I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"You'd better bloody not." Missy tilted her head to squint up at Charlie. "Stars above, that's a lot of hair you've got. I forget sometimes. You got that from me, I think. Though the curls are your father's fault."

Before Charlie knew what was happening, Missy had rolled back over and pinned Charlie down with one hand and a grin.

"Hey," Charlie protested.

"Not quick enough, kit," Missy said with a chuckle, curling up into her side and yawning. "Still got a lot to learn. But that's what I'm here for."

"You're a great teacher."

"I like to think so, yes." Missy regarded her daughter with soft eyes that were becoming gradually more focused. Her fingers pushed some hair from Charlie's face, and then her hand cupped Charlie's cheek. "Just what are we going to do with all this hair, hmm?"

"I like it," Charlie said brightly.

Missy blew out some air in a huff, shifting some of her own hair in the process. "Of course you do."

"You like it too."

"I absolutely do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too-"

Next thing Charlie knew, she'd been pushed off the bed. There was thankfully a thick rug underneath the bed, so the fall wasn't too bad and she immediately jumped back up to see Missy had sat up and begun stretching.

"Hey!"

Missy smirked and put on a funny, deep chested American accent. "Sorry, kid, looks like this bed is only big enough for the one of us." Charlie cocked an eyebrow, and sure enough, Missy let out a little giggle. "Well, alright then," she said in her normal voice, with a dramatic sigh, patting the spot next to her. "I'll allow you back."

Charlie jumped back onto the bed and hugged her tightly. "Thank you. I won't take up too much space, I promise!"

Missy giggled again and held her face in her hands. "You take up all the space you like, kit. Don't you ever, ever, diminish yourself for anyone. Not even me. Got it?"

Charlie considered this, and was quick to nod.

"Good." Missy tilted her head, and her lip quivered, just for a moment, as her fingers traced over Charlie's cheek. "You know, I've made a lot of mistakes, kit. Not just the whole  _your father thinks they were bad things I did_  kind. Actual mistakes. Stupid mistakes, self-destructive ones. But god, if you aren't the one thing I ever got right."

Charlie hugged her again, and Missy's hands clutched at her tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you too, kit. So much. Now come on, we've got a space station to run."

* * *

A few more months passed, and things got more tenuous. Nothing huge happened, but Charlie could feel it in the air, see it in the faces of the people in her sector when she made her way through, before they went to the trouble of trying to hide it.

Dun did not tend to grant her this courtesy, whenever she ran into him, regardless of whether she was with his brother.

"I don't know how much longer I can stop him from doing something foolish," Cail told her, in one of their storage room meetings, pacing in the small space the room afforded him while she sat on one of the containers. "It's not as though I'm happy with things here either, but fighting back will only make it worse - he's seen what your mother can do, and he still seems to think he can stop her!"

"My dad is the only one who can ever stop her when it comes to things like this," Charlie said, "and he's not here."

Of course, she had a locket which could instantly summon him, but Cail didn't need to know that particular detail. While she could understand Cail's perspective on things, and to an extent, his brother's, that didn't mean she wanted her mother stopped, least of all by her father. The Doctor would certainly not approve of Charlie's part in all of this, and that was enough reason for Charlie to ensure he didn't find out. His disappointed face made her immensely uncomfortable.

Cail snorted. "He sounds real handy, your dad, but absent figures of cosmic power don't do me or anyone here any good."

"Just remember to let me know if Dun is planning anything that might get him killed. We can try and work out how to stop him without my mum finding out," Charlie said. "I can probably think of quite a few ways to keep her busy, for a little while. But I need the warning."

Cail nodded, looking vaguely reassured. "I will. I will." He ran a hand over his face. "You know, when I agreed to spy for you, I thought I might have been making the biggest mistake of my life. But now, it's hard to imagine what might have happened if I hadn't agreed. You've been… you've probably saved his life at least three times, and he has no idea."

"And yours about five, I think," Charlie replied, with a little nod and smile. "But you've said thank you quite a lot for those five,  _and_ his three. So it's okay. Besides, you've helped me saved Mum's life at least once. Or an attempt on it, at least."

"It's been a good partnership, for sure. But how much longer will it last? Dun barely listens to half of the things I say, anymore."

Cail still looked worried, and hadn't ceased his pacing. Charlie managed to catch his arm as he went past, and he looked at her in surprise. Physical contact wasn't a part of their unconventional relationship.

"I can keep you safe," she said firmly. "But you need to calm him down, somehow. Then it will be okay. We can keep things okay, like we've done all this time."

He blinked at her, took a deep breath, and nodded. He reached out to touch her shoulder, just for a moment. "Thanks, kid."

"That's Miss Charlie to you," she said, half joking, half reminding that if he got into the habit of being familiar with her, it could get them into trouble.

"Right."

"It'll be okay," she repeated.

Cail nodded, but it was hard to tell if he believed her or not.

* * *

There was a time, on the one night of the week where Missy tended to disappear off somewhere, when Charlie would visit the station's observation deck. The window took up the entire wall, with the viewing platform falling just short enough that one could sit on the edge and let their feet dangle while being just an arm's reach from the glass.

There were so many stars in this part of space that it was near impossible to count, but Charlie had been trying anyway. There was also a small planet and moon below, completely uninhabited as far as Charlie was aware. They were a beautiful, matching pale blue, the moon just slightly paler in colour.

Watching them always made Charlie feel rather peaceful. They were so beautiful.

"Hey, kiddo," said a voice, and Charlie turned around, a little alarmed at being interrupted when she had never once been before.

The person who had spoken had not come through the doorway. She had materialised on the opposite side of the room, and was now making her way over to where Charlie was sitting.

She was eerily familiar, and unmistakable.

"It's you," Charlie said, shocked. "Me. The older me."

Older Charlie smiled, and sat down next to her. "That's the one. You've met me once before, right?"

"Yeah. I don't really remember anything that happened, though, just what you look like. I think that's supposed to happen though, Mum said it was something about earlier versions not being able to retain the memories." Charlie took in her older self, the sharp features and lean body, the harder eyes. "You're older. Than the last time. At least a couple of years."

"And what a couple of years they've been," Older Charlie murmured, before snapping out of it and smiling at her younger self wanly. " _But_  I'm not here to be a downer."

"Why  _are_  you here? Isn't it kind of, you know, bad? For the causal nexus?" Charlie asked her.

"It's not ideal, no, but as long as I don't tell you anything important and we don't physically touch, it should be fine," her older self replied. "I just… wanted a nice place to sit and enjoy a good view. And I remembered a time when I had the perfect place for that, and I knew I'd have good company."

She winked at Charlie, who couldn't help a little giggle.

"How old are you now?"

"Seventeen. How about you? You're almost eleven now, right?"

"Yeah."

Older Charlie nodded. "Still a little while, then."

"A little while until what? Until I'm eleven?"

Older Charlie looked at her, with an expression that was difficult to read, but there was a kind of pity, or perhaps melancholy, in her eyes.

"Afraid not, kid. Look, just-" Her hand reached for Charlie, before recoiling, no doubt upon remembering what the consequences would be. "Just… enjoy being a kid while it lasts, okay?"

"I think being a teenager seems like it will be fun."

"It can be," Older Charlie said, with a little chuckle that quickly died in her throat. "But you'll, uh… have to go through a fair bit more than most kids, to get there."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I can't tell you, obviously, but-" Older Charlie sighed, and looked at her with a seriousness that seemed strange for her. "Not now, not for a while, but some day on the horizon… there's going to be a time when you're alone, and scared. To the point that you realise you never really knew what those words meant, before. And when that happens, you need to be strong, and remember that you have people who will  _always_  come for you, and-"

Her teenage self took a deep breath, biting her lip.

"And?" Charlie asked her.

"And that you're a force to be reckoned with all on your own," Older Charlie told her. "You'll never be as alone as you might come to feel, one day, but in the end it doesn't matter, because you're more capable than you know. And you're never more powerful than when backed into a corner. Than when you're terrified."

"Dad always says that fear is a superpower," Charlie said, recalling it. "Is that what you mean?"

Older Charlie's lips quirked for a moment. "I suppose that's part of it, yeah. As for the rest… well, spoilers."

"Spoilers?"

"That means you have to wait and find out."

Charlie tilted her head. "Why are you telling me this? Aren't I going to forget about all of this anyway? What's the point?"

"You'll remember subconsciously, I hope. It might take me a few tries, I don't know. I'm trying to retrace my steps, find that blur where I can't quite remember."

"I guess that makes sense. Is it really that important?"

"Yes, it was."

"Okay. I'll try to remember. Is that why you're here?"

"Well, I also really did just want to sit here for a while, if that's okay. I've really missed this view." Older Charlie leaned back on her hands and shut her eyes, basking in the starlight.

"Did you want to see Mum?"

"No," her older self said, with an edge in her voice. "I just want to be here, with you."

They sat there for quite a while, not feeling a need to talk. There was the strangest sense of peace, of completion, knowing who it was sitting next to her.

"Charlie?" Cail's voice made both Charlies turn their heads towards the door, where the man was standing and looking at the older Charlie with curiosity and suspicion. He faltered upon seeing her face. "I - what the hell?"

"I-" Charlie's older self looked stricken as she looked at Cail, and words failed her for a moment, before her face became a polite mask. "You must be Cail. Charlie's told me a lot about you."

"Wish I could say the same," Cail said as he approached, his arms crossed.

"I'm Charlie's big sister, Jamie," Older Charlie said with ease as she got up. There was a strange tension in her frame. "But that's not important. I need to go, I didn't realise anyone else would be here, which is stupid of me, because of course I wouldn't remember, and I can't-"

"Sister?!" Cail looked at Charlie. "Why did you never mention you had a sister?"

Charlie shrugged. "It never came up," she lied easily.

Cail looked between them with an odd exasperation. He let out a large sigh, and 'Jamie' hovered awkwardly between him and Charlie, not seeming to want to get any closer to him but also clearly wanting to leave.

"What brings you here, then, Jamie?"

'Jamie' looked at him with an unfathomable expression, and she shrugged. "Nostalgia. And a wonderful view. I don't see my… sister, much. We're not really meant to talk. But sometimes I think it's important that I give her advice."

"What do you mean, not really meant to talk?" Cail asked. "You're sisters, aren't you? You have every right."

"It's complicated," they said at exactly the same time, making Cail blink at them.

"I see," he said, a little warily. "Well, family always does tend to be complicated, I guess."

'Jamie' nodded. "Yes, it really does," she said, with a sadness that did the opposite of put Charlie at ease. Not that it was anything new that their family was complicated, but Charlie couldn't remember being as sad about it as Jamie seemed. And she hadn't wanted to see Missy, for some reason.

"Is that why we haven't seen you around here before, Jamie?"

'Jamie' shook her head. "No, I just go where I wish to, not where my parents would have me be. Not unless they ask nicely, and even then."

"Shouldn't you probably… go?" Charlie asked her. "Not that I want you to leave, but… you know."

"Yes, I should leave," 'Jamie' agreed, sighing, looking back at the wide window and the shining stars. "It's just… so nice here. I'd forgotten."

"Forgotten?" Cail asked, frowning at her.

'Jamie' ignored the question, but looked back at him with that same heavy, unfathomable emotion in her eyes. "Thank you. For everything you've done for my family. I just want you to know how much it's appreciated."

"I - you're welcome," Cail said, looking uncomfortable.

"And I-" 'Jamie' bit her lip as she stepped forward, and Charlie saw pain flash through her eyes, just for a moment, as her hand came up to touch Cail's face, barely making contact before it was rescinded at lightning speed. "I'm sorry. I think this is my only chance to ever tell you that."

"Sorry?" Cail asked, confused.

"Why sorry?" Charlie asked her, feeling wary.

"I need to go," 'Jamie' said, getting up, "This was stupid of me. I know better, I-" An odd, worryingly lost look crossed her face. "Please, Charlie. Try to remember what I told you. It's important. It's the only thing that kept me sane, when it happened."

"When what happened?" Charlie asked.

"You know I can't say, but you'll find out. Don't worry about it now, it's not here, it's not now, and you have problems enough here. Just… remember. You're never going to be as alone as you might feel, and you're stronger than anyone knows."

With that, Charlie's older self got up, and headed for the door, looking back at them once more with strange, quiet yearning.

"I'm sorry," she said to Cail one more time, looking so young in that moment, before it was gone, and so was she.

"Are you just going to let her leave?" Cail asked Charlie, who forced herself to look back at the stars. They didn't seem as interesting as they usually did, anymore. Her mind was reeling.

"She needed to leave," Charlie said. "It was dangerous for her to come. And she's confused me a lot. I'm worried now."

"About?"

"Myself." Charlie glanced at him, and bit her lip. "And you. And all of this."

"The way she looked at me-"

Charlie shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. The stuff she knows is dangerous, that's why she shouldn't have been here." She thought about her older self's face when she'd seen Cail, how she'd  _apologised_ , and said she'd never had a chance to thank him. "She shouldn't have  _said_  anything!"

She was on her feet, an anger burning through her in unfamiliar, painful ways.

"I was fine, this was fine, and now I don't-" Charlie found her hands in her hair. "Now I'm scared. I think I'm really scared. I think something's going to happen to me, and I don't know what it is, but I also don't know if that even matters, because now I think something's going to happen to you-"

"Hey, hey, Charlie," Cail said, approaching her and kneeling so he could take her gently by the forearms, and have her look down at him. "It's going to be alright. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, just like you're not going to let anything happen to me."

_I'm sorry._

_I think this is my only chance to ever tell you that._

"Okay," Charlie whispered, finding she didn't quite believe it.

Her older self had made it fairly clear that her own problem was not one she would face here, where Cail could protect her from it. And Cail might have Charlie's protection, but no matter what 'Jamie' had said, Charlie had no delusions about her own power. She was still only ten years older, after all. She was not a proper warrior of any kind, not yet, and not nearly as silver tongued as she would need to be to stay her mother's hand if it was in any way determined.

Charlie found herself hugging Cail, for lack of knowing what else to do.

"It's alright, kid, it's alright," he told her. "It's going to be okay."

Charlie held him that much tighter, because she knew, in her hearts, and in her gut, that it was  _not_  going to be okay. He was her friend, she was sure of that now, and she couldn't stand the idea of anything happening to him.

… except, why did she think something would? She was going to look after him, she had promised? Why did she feel so unsettled, so upset?

Charlie, confused, backed away from Cail's hold. "Why am I upset?"

Cail stared at her, seemingly baffled. "What?"

"I-" Charlie looked around, and then back at him. "What are you doing here? I don't remember you getting here."

"Kid, is this some kind of joke?" Cail asked. "Because I'm really not into these kind of jokes, I'm just not quick enough to understand them."

"I don't know, my head's all fuzzy."

"Your sister upset you," Cail said. "Or she was scaring you, trying to warn you, though about what I've got no damned idea."

"My sister?" Charlie was utterly bemused for a moment, before her mind managed to snatch an image up - a flash of long, dark curls, and long legs swinging over the edge of the platform. Charlie had no sister, but there was one person who might claim as such, if an outsider had caught them together.

If her older self had been here, it would explain why she couldn't really remember anything.

"What did she say?" Charlie demanded.

Cail blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I can't remember what she said, what did she say?" Charlie said, grabbing him by the arms. "Cail, please. I need to know. Also, don't tell my mum that she was here. Please."

"She said you had to remember something, that it was important," Cail said, frowning as he tried to recall. "Something about not being alone, even if you might think you are. And being stronger than anyone knows. She said you had to remember that."

It rang true in her head, in some fragment of memory she couldn't discern.

_...there's going to be a time when you're alone, and scared….you never really knew what those words meant, before… you need to be strong… you have people who will always come for you… you're a force to be reckoned with all on your own… and you're never more powerful than when backed into a corner…_

Charlie bit her lip. "Did she say anything else? What did she say to you?" If she was Charlie's future self, she had to know something about Cail, about how things would happen here, about whether he was safe in the future. "What did she know about you?"

Cail stared at her for a moment. She couldn't read his expression.

"She didn't say anything to me," he said, shaking his head and shrugging. "She left when I turned up, more or less."

"Oh, okay," Charlie said, disheartened at the lack of new information but also somewhat relieved. Foreknowledge was dangerous, and she was afraid enough for Cail half the time as it was.

"Do you really not remember?"

"No," Charlie said honestly. "Not really. It's okay, it happens sometimes. It's, uh, a thing that happens to my species. Our brains get kind of overloaded sometimes and just have to… reboot. So we forget things."

"That seems dangerous," Cail said with concern.

"No, it isn't, I promise, it's really controlled."

"How?"

"It would take too long to explain," Charlie told him, sighing. "I want to stay here for a bit, by myself. If you wanted to talk to me, can it wait until tomorrow?"

"Of course," Cail said. "Are you sure you want to stay here by yourself?"

Charlie fixed him with a look.

"Okay, okay," he said, with a tiny smile, backing up with his hands raised in placation. "I'm going. You take all the time you need, kid."

Charlie nodded and sat back down on the edge of the platform, staring out into space and trying to conjure up the image of her older self sitting next to her. It was like trying to touch a ghost.

Her head was still swimming. Had Cail been here? She couldn't be certain, even if she could remember the strange surge of emotion and strong arms keeping her still, the comforting voice calming her down. He must have been here, she just couldn't remember it very well.

It had been like this after the first time, too. Missy hadn't stopped going on about how delightful Charlie's older self seemed, while Charlie could barely remember that she had been happy that her older self was tall, not even how tall that had actually been.

It seemed unfair, that she couldn't remember. Why did time travel have to have so many rules?

At least she had managed to retain, more or less, what her older self had wanted her to remember. One day, in the not so distant future, something was going to go terribly wrong, and she was going to be alone and terrified. It was a horrific prospect - the only time Charlie had ever really been alone in her life had been when she'd nearly died in that blizzard.

But she would be able to survive it. No matter what happened, she would be okay. She didn't often feel it, right now, but Charlie had always known, theoretically, that she could be strong. Properly strong, the kind of strong that made other people scared, and not just the sensible kind of scared that came with anyone holding a disintegrator.

Charlie liked the idea of having that kind of strength, that kind of power. But what prices would have to be paid for her to get it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought!


	21. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Charlie continues to learn more about the universe and the people around her, the tensions on the space station only get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a filler, but it's important leading up to the next one which will finally conclude this little arc! Hopefully it's enjoyable all the same!

Good girls did not eavesdrop on their friend's personal conversations.

Of course, despite not really being sure what kind of girl she was yet, assuming that was definitely what she was in the first place, Charlie was fairly sure of one thing.

She was not a good girl. And as such, she felt minimal remorse about eavesdropping on Cail's conversation with his brother.

Besides, she'd heard shouting that sounded like Dun's voice, and so really, she was now listening out of  _concern_ , so morality could go hang when it was such a subjective, flimsy debate in the first place.

So here she was, crouched in an alcove just out of the way of the main walkway in her sector, just under the window of Cail's house. (Both window and house were relative terms here, given that they were on a space station colony. The window did not open out into space or any other kind of outdoors, but just into the sector corridor, and usually bore an image of more exciting scenery on the interior. The house was more of a pod, small bit of a functional size. The few times Cail had quietly had her as a guest, he had seemed embarrassed by it, when she had mentioned living in grand palaces. It had been hard to try and convince him that she honestly didn't mind and wasn't fussy or judgemental about this sort of thing.)

"Cail, you must be able to see you've gone too far with this," Dun was saying to Cail, "it made sense, at the beginning, but you've not changed this girl's mind about anything."

"It's - it's not that simple, Dun," Cail told him, with a heavy sigh.

"It looks pretty simple to me, Cail. Her mother is a murderer, and a damned raging lunatic. The kid looks like she's headed the same way, she's damn unnerving, and you know it."

"Once you get to know her-"

"I don't want to get to know  _anyone_ who's had a hand in our mass slaughter," Dun said. "Because that's what it is. Do you know how many they've killed, since they got here? Thousands. Hundreds just the day they arrived."

"Charlie hasn't killed anyone-"

"Even if you could be sure that's true, which you can't, she's handed people to that bitch on a plate, so it's as good as."

"It's not her fault, it's just what she's been taught-"

"I don't  _care_ ," Dun snarled. "You've gone too soft for this weird kid, and it needs to stop. Right now."

"There's more going on than what you realise, Dun, she's helping me."

"Oh, for - look, just stop whatever it is that  _is_ going on, alright? Soon, people who aren't me are going to notice. I can't keep covering for you." To his credit, Dun actually seemed legitimately concerned for Cail, even in his anger.

Charlie stood up and slid the window further open. "You don't really have the authority to tell him that. You're not the boss of him."

Dun jumped a mile and cursed in three different languages. "What the  _hell_ -"

"Charlie,  _what_ are you doing here?!" Cail asked incredulously.

Charlie just shrugged. "I know you're the younger brother, but that doesn't mean he can boss you around."

"Scram, kid," Dun growled, but for all his bravado, she could see that he was sweating. Was he scared of her? She didn't know how she felt about that. She supposed it made sense, at least because she could go running to Missy, but still.

"You  _especially_ can't tell  _me_ what to do," Charlie told him calmly. "But I'm thinking you're angry, and that me and Cail should go for a walk and let you cool down."

"He's not going anywhere with-"

"Shut it, Dun, before you do something monumentally stupid," Cail told his brother, pushing him out of the way and heading out of the door, where he was quick to grab Charlie as soon as she was in reach and start pulling her off down the corridor.

"Hey, don't grab me," Charlie protested, pulling out of his grip.

Cail winced. "Sorry. I just want us out of here."

Dun, thankfully, didn't seem to be following them or trying to shout abuse after them, so that was something. Charlie and Cail continued to walk, until they could quietly slip into the storage cupboard that was their meeting place.

"This is bad," Cail said, beginning to pace. "I'm in real trouble now, he knows something is wrong."

"Did I make things worse?"

Cail sighed. "Maybe a little, but not really, he already knew I was involved with you somehow, you've just made him… I don't know. He feels betrayed, I think."

"But you're doing all of this for him."

"But he doesn't know that, does he?"

* * *

Charlie wasn't sure what she had expected to see upon entering the bridge, but finding it empty but for Missy and a giggling blonde on her lap was certainly not it.

Missy had one hand on the top of her leg and one in her hair, her mouth moving against the woman's neck while the woman sighed in a funny sort of way and then giggled again.

"Mum?" Charlie asked, with great bewilderment.

They both jumped and the blonde flushed while Missy actually looked slightly embarrassed, which was extremely odd.

"Charlie, dear, hello," she said, coughing. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Yeah, it kind of seems like it," Charlie said, frowning. "Who's this?"

"Oh, I'm Maya," the blonde said with an awkward wave of her hand. She got off Missy's lap. "And I should probably be going."

Missy smiled and used a grip on her wrist to pull her back in, whispering something in her ear that made Maya blush an astounding shade of red before she nodded and hurried out.

Charlie watched her go, and then looked back at her mother, who had her chin propped up on her elbow, which was resting on the arm of the captain's chair. Her expression was unreadable.

"I'm confused," Charlie said.

Missy's eyebrow twitched. "About?"

"You. And that lady. What were you doing? It looked sort of like what I've seen you do with Dad a few times, but I always thought that was something you  _just_  did with Dad."

"Alright, time for a quick talk, I think," Missy remarked, snorting. "Up here, love. It's about time you learnt about something."

Charlie approached the captain's chair and sat on the arm not occupied by Missy's elbow. "Okay. What am I learning about?"

"Sex," Missy said simply. "I imagine you've heard the word before."

"Yes. I know it can be about biology, in terms of certain body parts and things," Charlie replied. "But it means something else as well, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does." Missy looked amused, and she rearranged her petticoats before bringing her eyes back to Charlie. It seemed as though she was giving great thought to her next words. "Sex is something that adults do with another person - well, or several other people, but more often just the  _one_ other. It's something that makes them feel good. Often it's with somebody you care about - like me and your father - and it involves a dreadful lot of emotions in some of those cases, which can be wonderful or exhausting or just entirely overwhelming. Otherwise, it's just a… physical activity, of sorts, with someone you think is pretty or at least interesting in some way. You do it for fun, or because you're stressed, or… just because you feel like it."

"Hm. Okay," Charlie said thoughtfully. "But what actually  _is_  it?"

Missy let out a little huff. "Well…"

What followed was an extremely brief, concise explanation, and it all made sense again, because she remembered being five years old and having a 'now, Charlie, there are certain parts of your body that are  _yours_ , and you must promise to tell me if anyone tries to touch them, so that I can vaporise them on the spot' conversation. This seemed to be a sort of continuation of that. When she was older, she apparently might want to use those parts of her body for this weird 'sex' business - which by Missy's descriptions sounded beyond strange.

"You might get feelings, and urges, of that sort, as you get older," Missy told her, fingers combing through her hair. "Or you might not. Everybody is different, and whatever you feel or don't feel is okay. But I want you to know that you can talk to me about it, about any of it."

"I will," Charlie promised. "But it sounds really weird, and I don't think that's going to be a problem."

Missy chuckled. "Good. Now, did you want something?"

"Not really, I just wanted to see you, but I might go and find some food."

"Okay, darling. You do that."

Charlie nodded and got up off Missy's chair, and made for the door, only to turn around about halfway so that she could look back.

"So you're having sex with that Maya lady, then?"

Missy snorted. "I'm about to be."

Charlie giggled. "Okay. That's…" She made a face. "Nope, it's weird, I don't want to think about that."

"Welcome to the real world, kiddo, a good half of it is having to continuously block out the mental images of all the people around you that you know are having sex but absolutely do not want to picture doing so."

"Great," Charlie said dubiously.

"Now run along."

Charlie gave her a mock salute, making her laugh, and then headed out of the doors and off the bridge.

* * *

"So, I learned what sex is today."

Cail started choking on his bar of protein and Charlie frowned at him with a mix of confusion and concern.

"What?" he asked once he'd avoided near death by protein bar.

"Sex," Charlie said, sipping at her green milk. "Mum explained what it is. It explains a  _lot_ about some stuff I didn't understand before."

"I see," Cail replied, lifting an eyebrow. "And what inspired her to tell you about this today?"

"Well, I found her with a friend. I think she's like, a sex friend."

Cail, having just taken another bite, possibly to calm himself, nearly choked again. "What?"

"Well, I know she is, because Mum said I was right." Charlie made a face. "The… you know, the… mechanics of… it. They sound weird. So I'm not thinking about that too much."

"Good plan." Cail seemed to mean that genuinely, which pleased Charlie, and she beamed at him.

"I still think adults make no sense, but at least I understand a  _bit_ better now," Charlie said thoughtfully.

"You're doing fine, kid, you're doing fine. Now, who is this friend of your mother's?"

Charlie nearly said the woman's name, only to realise that being any kind of friend of Missy's would probably not endear a person to most people on the station. Not that she didn't trust Cail, but she was learning that often if there was doubt, it was better to keep quiet.

"I don't know," she lied, "just some lady."

"Well, I hope she's doing it for the right reasons."

Charlie blinked at him. "Are there wrong reasons when it comes to sex stuff? Mum didn't say anything about that."

Cail groaned. "I am absolutely not going into this with you. Ask your - well, actually, ask your  _father_  when you next see him."

"Okay," Charlie said, frowning again and wondering why Missy would not be the right person to ask about that.

"Can we talk something else now? This is too weird."

Charlie laughed. "I know. What do you want to talk about? I've been learning about huon particles in the little lessons my mum has programmed into my datapad. Do you know anything about those?"

" _What_ particles?"

* * *

As part of her responsibilities involving running her sector, Charlie had to do total inventory of supplies within it. It was something she  _could_ delegate to someone within the sector, but her mother wanted her to do it, since otherwise the person doing it could lie about the numbers in order to steal them.

Cail could be trusted to do it, probably, but he had a fairly important maintenance job and was better off where he was.

She'd almost finished with the food stock when she heard movement by the door.

Looking up from the datapad she'd been tapping on and the open crate of protein packets she'd been counting, Charlie's eyes fell on Dun, who was leaning on the doorframe and regarding her with an expression she couldn't read. It might have been curiosity, or possibly disdain, or a mixture of the two, or something else entirely.

Some things to do with adults still went over her head. It was frustrating, but she was getting better at accepting that she would start understanding more and more now, and that she just needed to be patient.

"Dun, what a nice surprise," she said, with a little smile. She didn't really know why it was still her default to be nice to him, given that he had never really been nice to her. It was probably for Cail's sake more than anything else - she didn't want him to have any more reason to hate her than he already did.

Dun lifted an eyebrow. "Is it?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Charlie asked innocently, blinking her eyes at him for added effect.

"God, you're weird," he muttered.

"Did you want something? I'm guessing you're not just here to talk."

"I want you to stay away from my brother." Dun's voice was firm, harsh, his eyes filled with that quiet, barely restrained rage. "You're messing with his head. It has to stop."

"I haven't done anything to his head," Charlie said, frowning at him. "And you can't give me orders. I'm in charge of  _you_ , not the other way around."

"You're deluded if you think a little kid like you could really be in charge of all of us-"

"I  _am_  in charge of all of you-"

"Maybe, but you don't know the first thing about being an authority figure, about being a leader," Dun told her, sneering. "Because that involves having the respect of the people underneath you. Which you certainly do not, because my people don't take kindly to accomplices of known mass murderers, much less their spawn."

"Stop it," Charlie said, swallowing. "You're just being cruel. There's no point to it. I've done a lot to try and make things better here. I got in a lot of trouble with my mum for it, too."

Dun lifted an eyebrow. "Cail said so, but I'm still not inclined to believe him, or you, obviously. I won't believe you're really some sweet little misunderstood kid."

"Good, because I'm not that either," Charlie replied.

"Obviously, I know you'd probably just stand there and laugh if I ended up in front of your mother, about to get executed," Dun said, eyes flashing. "That's the thing. I can see it in your eyes, that it wouldn't affect you."

"You're right," Charlie said, making him stare at her. "It probably wouldn't. I've watched my mother kill a lot of people before. But I wouldn't just stand there. I wouldn't let her hurt you. I promised Cail I'd keep both of you safe, no matter what. I'm not going to break my promise."

Dun faltered. "You… you what?"

Charlie found herself a bit annoyed. "You don't actually know much about me and Cail, do you?"

"I know everything that I-"

"You obviously don't," Charlie said, crossing her arms. "Or else you would know that I promised Cail I'd do everything I could to make sure nothing bad happens to either of you. But you've been so busy hating me that you've never considered I might be helping you."

"Helping? You call standing off to the side while your psychopath mother butchers our leaders and a twelfth of the population  _helping_?" Dun demanded, striding forward and towering over her.

Charlie took the small gun that had been in her possession since the bank heist (set to stun, of course) and held it up between them.

"Back off," she told him.

He glowered and swung back on his heels. "Cool it, kid."

"You're the one who started shouting," she said, voice firm. "I told you that even though you've been really awful to me, I'm going to keep trying to protect you. And then you shouted and-"

"Sorry," Dun muttered, actually looking ashamed of himself. "But that doesn't make what I just said untrue."

"I'm not saying I didn't do those things, I'm saying that it doesn't mean I can't also be helping you."

Dun stared at her, and for a moment she thought she saw pity in this face. Then it was gone, and his expression hardened.

"You know, I don't know why I bothered. You're a lost cause. She's already broken you," he said, shaking his head.

"What? I'm not broken."

"Right, everything that you are is so  _normal_ ," he said, voice torn somewhere between mocking and that pity again.

Charlie wished that didn't sting a little, but it did. She didn't know why. It didn't make sense to care about his opinion, and he was hardly the first one to say anything like it.

"I think you should leave," she said after a moment's processing.

"First smart thing I've ever heard you say," he muttered, walking out without giving her another look.

Feeling like she wanted to cry, but desperate not to because the reason was so silly, Charlie found her phone and headphones and put on some Tchaikovsky to calm herself down.

It didn't exactly work, because it wasn't exactly calming music by nature, too grand and wonderful for that, but it took her back to simpler times, to her ballet lessons and her mother laughing with Master Fokine.

Her feet turned out automatically as she made her way around the kitchen, and reaching to get things turned into an arabesque, while pique turns found their way into her steps as she moved around.

Her task faded from her mind. Spinning in a pirouette, the Swan Lake Waltz loud in her ears, she couldn't stop, it was the only thing that blocked out the feeling of impending disaster, the feeling that she was a stupid little girl who had tried to do to that much and was about to see it crumble.

The pirouette didn't end, it kept going, around and around until her support leg finally gave out and she tumbled to the floor, hitting the counter.

It hurt. She ignored it as she pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned back against the counter she'd half fallen into.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She could do this.

"You're not broken," she said to herself firmly. "You're more capable than you know. You're a force to be reckoned with."

She frowned a little after the words left her mouth. She couldn't remember where she had heard them before, just that she had. They felt familiar, more like her own words than anyone else's.

Perhaps it didn't matter. Perhaps it only mattered that she believed them.

* * *

Charlie stared at message that had come through on her datapad from Cail. All it said was 'meet, ASAP, urgent', and that was enough to make her worried. Problem was, she was currently looking at it under a table because she was having breakfast with her mother.

"No devices at the table, Charlotte," Missy told her, lifting an eyebrow.

"I know, sorry," Charlie said, putting it away. Cail would just have to wait.

Breakfast continued, Missy told some story about how she once killed someone with an eggcup to the temple, and Charlie laughed in all the appropriate places, hoping it didn't show that her hearts weren't in it, that her mind was elsewhere.

"May I be excused? I need to check something in my sector," Charlie asked. "It's probably nothing but I want to be see."

Missy regarded her curiously. "Of course, darling. You run along and get that done. When you get back, though, fencing lesson. You're out of practice." Charlie nodded, genuinely excited at the prospect and making sure to try and look it despite being distracted.

She made her way to her sector and to the supply cupboard, where sure enough Cail was waiting.

"What took you so long?" he asked her. "What part of 'urgent' did you miss?!"

"I was having breakfast with Mum, it would have looked suspicious if I'd left early," Charlie told him, frowning and crossing her arms. "I'm not that good at lying to her, you know."

"Well, fine, at least you're here now, because we have to do something."

"Why? What's going on?"

"It's Dun. I overheard him making plans with some of his people a few hours ago. They're going to kill your mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, please let me know what you thought!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Everybody Wants To Rule The World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10314116) by [UniverseOnHerShoulders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseOnHerShoulders/pseuds/UniverseOnHerShoulders)




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